Day 1 in Nicaragua

Yesterday I finally left Buenos Aires (whaaaaa) for Nicaragua. I was wildly disappointed to discover that my elite status on Continental had been taken away since I was no longer as faithful a customer as I had been before (poopy) so I had to fly economy class with all the other plebians. The strangest part of the whole trip, however, was the random stopover in Houston, TX, where suddenly I could eavesdrop on random conversations of people all over the place. I didn't think it would be strange to hear English being spoken in all the reaches of my earshot, but it was. Thankfully it was only for a few hours... my flight to Managua was back to being spanish-focused, and once I arrived in the airport I was back to my new idea of the norm.

Managua is different than Bs As in about as many ways as possible. The airport didn't even have internet (we'll come back to that later), and the percentage of people that speak functional english is somewhere around 2 or 3... not that thas was a huge problem. I arrived at the airport without actually knowing what I was going to do when I got there... I didn't have an address to go to, I didn't have someone there to meet me, I didn't know a phone number of anyone in the organization... and the fact that internet was non-existent made all these suddenly a huge problem seeing as I had no way of finding anything out without access to my email. Oh fun.

After a few false starts with the pay phones and random people's cell phones, I managed to find a phone that cost $1 a minute to use, and I called the only phone number I have memorized... my parents. Via a few phone calls to the States and harried instructions on how to log into my email account, I got a few phone numbers to try. Eventually I got in touch with the admin here at blueEnergy and she freaked out and sent me a special driver that's been hired by blueEnergy to drive people around. Aparently the taxis here are so unsafe, no one takes them.... I wondered how there were so many cabs on the road then, but no one could answer that.

I was brought to a house that is owned by blueEnergy in Managua. No one else was around besides this old dude who's been hired to look after the house. He was extremely social, and talked a mile-a-minute in spanish that I could barely understand (the accent here is extremely different than in Argentina) but I got enough to know that he was hitting on me (gross... seriously dude, you're over 60) and couldn't believe that I was in my mid-20s and still not married (apparently 20something women are already mothers here).

I realized how much had changed in my environment, however, when I took a shower to freshen up. First, there was only one knob to turn on the water... signifying there's only one water temperature.... cold. Oh yum. Then, there wasn't a shower head, just a spout that peed water much like a dog... water pressure? what's that? and wait... you want a steady stream of water? hahahaha! Unfortunately, my camera is no longer in my possession.... I think the security checkpoint guys at the airport thought they'd enjoy it's uses more than I would.... so I couldn't take a picture of the apparatus.

I eventually won my battle with the soap and water, and emerged from the "shower" as "refreshed" as I could be. Another 2 hour conversation with old-dude knocked me out completely, and I slept like a dead person with the fan blowing over me all night.

A Navy Excursion up the Rio de la Plata

Yesterday turned out to be way more interesting than I imagined it would be. Matías was supposed to leave with his boat for Rosario quite early in the morning, but at the last minute, plans changed, and he wasn't to leave until after noon. Since he had to be on the boat anyway because of guard duty, he invited me out to the ship to hang out for an hour or two and say goodbye. Well, the wheels of the Argentine Navy needed more greasing than expected, and the boat wasn't ready to go for several more hours, so I got the chance to hang out, chill, eat lunch, and meet all the officers of the ship (up until then, I only knew Matías and the 2nd in Command). Suddenly I saw the boat with all it's crew members up and about. The place was bustling with activity. People were everywhere. The commandante was issuing orders, people were running around with walkie talkies, and suddenly all the pomp and circumstance of the Navy became apparent. People were saluting each other left and right, and I saw how much respect the commandante and the 2nd in Command get. It was incredible.

Then the 2nd in Command offered to let me ride as a passenger on the boat up to their first stop - in the city of Zarate - in order to see how it all worked, hang out with Matías some more, and just kinda chill. Well I wasn't about to turn up that opportunity, so after some fussing, a bit of paperwork, and the final delivery of fuel, we all set off. I got to watch the sun set over Buenos Aires while riding off up the river in a boat filled with men in uniform. Did I mention that living in Buenos Aires has been like a dream? It was really cool to see the guys fretting over the navigation charts with all these fancy tools I didn't understand, and sending messages over the radio. I got to hang out in the boat's version of the cock pit and ask whatever questions my spanish permitted me to ask.

The trip was about 6 hours. We traveled up the river past the final reaches of Buenos Aires (the city went on FOREVER), and past several little industrial towns with nothing but countryside in between them. Towards the end of the trip we came upon a giant bridge (that Matías compared to the Brooklyn Bridge) full of lights and super huge. We traveled under it at top speed, and as we were coming out the other side, I ran to the back of the boat to check out the view. The moon was hanging low over the river, as it was just rising, and it was perfectly framed by the lights of the bridge and the stern of the ship. It was definitely cool.

Matías was granted permission to accompany me back to BsAs on the bus and hang out with me for my last two days, so suddenly my last few hours here aren't as bad as I expected. I spent most of the day today buying gear for Nicaragua. I now have very fancy schmancy light-weight light-colored long pants and shirts that will supposedly protect me from mosquitos and the sun without causing me to overheat. Hopefully they operate as advertised.

The next time I post will probably be from Managua... por eso, hasta luego!

Winding Down

So it's Tuesday of my last week in Buenos Aires. Suddenly I find myself tying up all my loose ends here, and preparing myself for an adventure of a lifetime in Nicaragua. I can't believe how scared I am. I think I felt a lot more ready for this whole thing before, when it wasn't so completely about to happen. On top of that, I'm sad to be leaving Argentina. Although I knew I was going to like the city, I didn't think I was going to fall in love with it the way I have. Buenos Aires is not perfect, but it's character is so particular - the scars of the economic crises that mar it's beauty, the lost pride of the people that live here, the sad nostalgia of the tango dance, the simple beauty and tranquility of the corner cafe - it's all here, and I'm about to leave it.

Thankfully my parents are here to distract me from the inevitable, and keep me focused on seeing the last pieces of the city I still haven't seen. I don't know what I'm going to do with myself on Thursday when Matías and my parents will all leave, and I'll find myself all alone once again.  Hopefully my last three days here will be different than the first three - the ones rife with fright and the incapacity to communicate.  We'll see.

La Boca

La Boca is a neighborhood of Buenos Aires that was the original port way back in the colonial days of the city.  It's on the south side of the city, and although a lot of cantinas for the sailors are still there and thriving, the neighborhood has now become the home of artists and the bohemian lifestyle.  Many of the Argentine artists get their inspiration from the gritty buildings painted bright colors in the style of the original italian immigrants that shaped the area.

I first checked out this neighborhood with Matías and the girls when they were down here.  It's a bit touristy on the main strip with bad tango dancers doing their little performances, and knock-off artists selling their wares.  But when we stepped just a block off the beaten path, La Boca suddenly felt like a real immigrant/artist neighborhood.  The paint hadn't been redone on many of the buildings, but we could tell what it used to be.  There were balconies on both sides of the street that lined the houses, all covered in plants and laundry lines.

Friday, Mommy and Daddy went to see it, and seeing as I had nothing better to do, I went along as well.  Mommy and Daddy have been surprisingly intrigued by the art scene here - I guess the fact that their hotel is right next door to a gallery, and that the first day I sent them on a walk through the rich part of town where all these fancy expensive paintings are up for sale helped to inspire it.  Nevertheless, they have taken a particular interest in a native Argentine named Politi who has art up for sale in over a bazillion galleries here in the city.  My parents were especially lucky to meet the man himself in one of the galleries they visited, and so here we were in La Boca, with a business card and address of the artist himself... a real La Boca artist.

Without really knowing what to expect, we wandered around the neighborhood until we came upon his door.  A brazilian maid saw us loitering and asked us if we were interested in the artist that lived there.  With the extensive language barriers between us, we tried to communicate that we were, but didn't want to bother him on (did I mention this?) Good Friday.  Well, part one of the message was received, but not part two.  2 minutes later we found ourselves in the artist's studio surrounded by hundreds (and I mean hundreds) of his paintings, talking to the man about what inspires him (yeah, right... at least we tried), and negotiating prices (again... yeah right.... it doesn't matter how many zeros you take off from that number, we still can't afford it).  Nevertheless, the whole experience was totally cool.  Now I can say I've been in the studio of a famous artist who's art is way out of the price range I'll ever be able to afford, in a neighborhood famous for it's artists.

Opera Pampa

Mommy, Daddy, and I all went to Opera Pampa last night - a show about the history of Argentina that includes traditional dances and music from the aboriginese people all the way up through to the modern Gaucho culture of the countryside and some of the traditional stuff from the city as well.  It was way touristy, but quite fun anyway.  We were nicely entertained.

Part of the show is an equestrian spectacle, so there are horses galloping around and people doing all these crazy tricks.  Unfortunately, unlike at Notorious, I had absolutely no idea how hard some of the tricks were to do because I have never ridden a horse (other than the 10 minute little stint at the zoo in Luján where I had no idea what I was doing) and cannot appreciate the intricacies of the art.  Nevertheless, Mommy assured me that the tricks they were doing were super hard.  The one most impressive to me was when the riders would get off the saddle and ride over the side of the horse, hidden from the audience by the horse itself.  At the last second they'd pop up out of nowhere and be on top of the horse again.  This was apparently one of the tactics the native americans used when fighting the colonists because it gave them the chance to blend into a herd of wild horses and get very close to the colonists without being noticed.

Notorious

Whut whut, Notorious!

Friday night was another random gem of a night. My professor told me about Notorious several weeks ago, and one of Matías's friends, Juan-chi had also mentioned the place, so we were aware of the reputation of the place, and were casually looking for an opportunity to go. Friday night presented itself with hardly any options, so we looked up Notorious, and set up a reservation for the night.

Notorious functions as a cafe, a music store, and a little live stage all in one. The tables are equipped with touch screen computers that have all the music available in the store uploaded onto them. Cafe patrons can listen to whatever they like with one of the several headphones available at each station (a nice touch, for social listening). In the back of the store is a little cafe/theater where they serve coffees, liquors, and desserts while a live show is being performed.

Matías, Juan-chi and I had no idea what we were going into, other than the fact that the show had something to do with Jazz. It turned out that it was a female duo - voice and piano - doing American Jazz numbers of which I probably knew about half. Talk about amazing luck! I mentioned to the boys that this particular kind of show was especially interesting to me because I was able to appreciate both the singing and the piano because I actually know something about both.

The singing was good - the woman was from Chicago... a homegrown american... It was absolutely enchanting listening to her horrible spanish in between numbers and being able to catch mistakes here and there... but she was understandable, so that's all that matters. However, the incredible part of the show was the unbelievable pianist. During the first number, when she broke out her improv skills and started just going at it on the piano, I actually, quite literally, had to pick my jaw up off the floor once I realized I had been staring open mouthed and drooling at her hands. The girl couldn't have been more than 25 years old, was absolutely adorable, and could play jazz piano like it was the only thing that mattered in the world. There were times when, while playing her little super-speed improv sections, when she'd just close her eyes and play and play. UGH I was so JEALOUS! Juan-chi, after a few songs, leaned over and told me he'd fallen in love. I didn't blame him.... I practically had too.

The Most Authentic Parrilla Yet!

So Marissa and Dana's presence here in BsAs inspired Matías and Juan-Chi to look for especially authentic things to do.  Since the girls had expressed and interest in eating some real argentine-style meat, they promptly set up a household barbeque and invited us all along.

Juan-Fri (yes, all the Juan's here are differentiated by some kind of suffix) was studying for a giant medical exam (he's a med student) and needed a little study break, so Juan-Chi and friends decided to host a parrilla at his place.

Marissa and Dana were especially happy, and the parrilla was a huge success.  Check out some of the pictures...

	The parrilla with the meat. Dana, Marissa, Juan-Fri, and Juan-Chi.
	Juan-Chi and Matías taking a break from managing the grill to chill out and try to look cool.
	Juan-Fri and Martin just chillin.
	Matías with the final presentation.

A Football Game!

Dana and Marissa arrived in BsAs on Friday night with a three-page list of things they wanted to do and see while here. It's been a blast, running around the city doing all the touristy things I haven't actually done yet. I feel like a totally different kind of Tourist suddenly.

Sunday was a Day o' Football. The three of us met at their hostel and went with a giant group of tourists to a football stadium to watch a game between different teams in Argentina. It was SUPER fun. Granted, I don't know much about soccer, but I know enough to enjoy the game. There were even some players that I saw on the field and could TELL that they were absolutely incredible players. Some of the guys that were in the tour group with us were Australians and Brits, who obviously watch a WHOLE lot more soccer than I do, and even they were impressed with the level of play from the teams.

What was probably even more fun, however, were the fans.  These people were crazy.  They put a whole new spin on the definition of dedication, and I am no longer afraid of Red Sox or Yankee fans anymore.  The ENTIRE stadium of people went crazy throughout the game - it reminded me very much of the insanity of Cornell Ice Hockey games, but with 1000 times the number of fans.

During half time, the rain started to fall, but that didn't stop anyone.  Most of the men in the stands just took their shirts off and continued to chant and scream and sing and do whatever it is that fans do, while wringing out their shirts on the other team's fans.  By the time the entire stadium was beyond the level of soaked, the players were splashing through knee deep water on the field, and the ball would no longer move, I was convinced that only here in Argentina will Football have such a sacred place in the hearts of the people.

Unfortunately, due to the weather, the game was suspended, and no one actually got to take home a win.  Our team was up a whole bunch though, so we left happy.  Marissa, Dana, and I sat in a puddle of rainwater all the way home, taking pictures of the flooding throughout the city.