Sabado y Domingo

It felt so good to sleep in a little on Saturday.  I spent most of the morning passed out, or trying to formulate enough sentences in spanish to ask where the breakfast food was.  In the afternoon, a bunch of us went to Plaza Serrano which is a big marketplace where all these artists have set up little booths, and you can walk around and buy stuff for really cheap.  It's like a craft fair, and they have it every single weekend.  Some of the art was absolutely amazing, and I couldn't believe the prices.  A totally original pair of earrings was selling for the equivalent of $3.  Too bad I have to limit the amount of stuff I own these days, because I was like a kid in a candy store.

They also had lots of stores that housed various clothing designers who didn't have enough stuff to own an entire store.  There were the most adorable dresses for $10.  Again, I was going crazy.

At night, I went out with a whole bunch of Brazillians from my school who were going to a Brazillian night club.  We were all geared up to so salsa and samba dancing, and were quite disappointed when it turned out to be Brazillian 80s music.  We had fun anyway, though, and it was great to hang out with a bunch of people that I was forced to speak spanish with seeing as that was our only common language.  I was most surprised by how young they all were, though.  Several were less than 18 years old, here on summer holiday before going off to college.

Seeing as I was hanging out with Brazillian's who, I discovered, have no idea what sleep is, we didn't get home until almost 6am.  I spent Sunday morning catching up on my much-needed Z's.  In the afternoon I went with Eda and Lawrence to San Telmo which is a quaint little shopping district with lots and lots of cute little restaurants and cobble stone streets.  It reminded me a lot of Soho in New York, only it was 1/10 the price.  We ate at a little french place for lunch, and spent time sipping coffee in the plaza.

Afterwards we went to Recoletta to watch a movie (Juego Macabro) and return to that bar from Wednesday night for a pre-dinner cervesa.  Dinner was at this adorable little Vietnamese place that Eda and Lawrence had been trying to get a reservation to for over a month.  We were so lucky to get a table because the food was absolutely amazing.  I had some pork/pineapple number that has redefined both pork and pineapple for me.  Another couple beers and a highly annoying conversation with really loud, obnoxious American's later, we came home.  Sunday was a great day.

Classes started again today, and now that I'm in week 2, I feel all knowledgeable.  I know where the classrooms are, and when things stop and start.  Most of the people from my class from last week were gone and we got two new girls.  Unfortunately, they're American too, but at least they're not annoying.  They're both way smarter in Spanish than I am, though, so that's nice... I can learn from them as well.

Recoletta, una Milonga, y Palermo

The end of the week brought about the first real attempts at going out into the nightlife of the city.  Here's a picture of some of us out at a bar in Recoletta on Wednesday night.  From left to right is Eda (Turkey), Lawrence (England), Me, Gonzalo (Argentina - host family), and Leslie (American).  This bar was great.  It had an atmosphere of being really laid back and relaxed.  The mojitos were amazing, the caipirinha's unbelievably strong, and the conversation almost completely in spanish.  We all think Gonzalo has developed a huge crush on Leslie, so now we're trying to get the two of them together.  For some reason Leslie doesn't seem to want to go for it though.

After hanging out at this bar for a while, we left and were pleasantly surprised to see it raining.  Finally the heat has broken.

Thursday, Leslie and I found a little shoe store near the school that sells bazillions of specially designed dance shoes.  I was like a kid in a candy store.  For only $40 or $50, you could get special shoes with suede bottoms and steel reinforcement and everything.  (I guess, as a dancer, I get excited about these things... but for you non-dancers, shoes like this cost over $100 in the States, and they usually come in black or nude, not every color of the rainbow in every imaginable design).  So Leslie and I bought dance shoes, and thursday night we decided to break them in.  Some of the students from school organized a trip to a Milonga, which is a special dance hall where the people dance Argentine Tango.  The place was gorgeous.  It was in a real proper ballroom like they have in the movies, with cathedral ceilings, giant chandeliers, and a buffed and polished wooden dance floor.  Around the circumference of the floor were lots of tables where people sat and chatted and drank between sets.

The culture of a Milonga is particularly interesting.  There are various different kinds of Tango, and the music plays 3 or 4 songs of the same kind of Tango followed by a random non-tango song to signal the end of the set.  It's considered rude for a woman to ask a man to dance, so in order to get a partner, she has to sit at a table and look around and try to make eye contact with a guy.  Then there's a quick exchange of glances and nods, and the guy comes over to ask the girl to dance.  Once the two are dancing, social etiquette demands that they finish out the entire set of songs together.  The dancing at Milonga's is quite serious, and it's also considered rude to dance if you don't know how.  I made the mistake of accepting a guy's offer to dance without any knowledge of the dance itself, and the dude actually got pissed at me... I guess a lesson or two might be a good idea.  Leslie, on the other hand, was the light of the dance floor. At least it was fun to watch her.

Last night we went out again, but with Tamara and Marc instead of Eda and Lawrence.  We went to Palermo Viejo where there are loads and loads of outdoor terraces and a huge plaza where everyone was sitting outside, chatting away like in Paris or Rome.  It was a great neighborhood, and I can definitely see why they say Palermo is the place to go.

Random Coincidence

I thought those of you reading this blog might find it interesting that the friend of mine that recommended this program to me, Andrew, coincidentally stayed with the same host family I'm with.  How small is this world, eh?

3 Days In

For homework today, I have to write a paragraph about a typical day in my life, so I got all inspired, and figured I should let you in on how it's going for me.  With classes now in full swing, my routine is more defined.  I wake up at 7:30, shower, and get to the breakfast table by 8:00.  Breakfast is bread with butter or jam, and tea or coffee.  The 6 of us that are part of COINED (my school) all basically eat breakfast together, although it's kinda a free-for-all.  Then off to school we go.  A 20-minute subway ride gets us there by 9am.  Group classes go until 1pm, with a 20-minute break in the middle during which we run out to get a snack or some sort at the supermarket across the street.  Lunch is until 2pm, at which point Leslie goes to Tango class, and Tamara goes back for some more spanish.  2-3 I do homework or hang out with Marc.  Then I have my private lesson.  It's more structured now - not just a conversation.  We go over more of the specifics of what I covered in the morning class, and then work on other things.  Yesterday it was telling time, today it was describing things in a house.  Most of the time it's just building vocabulary.

Then it's back to the house.  Since Tamara, Leslie, and I all finish at the same time, we try to go home together... the subway is a little bit of a creepy experience.  (I think the cars were built in the 1800's - they're totally made of wood).

A nap and a few hours of studying later, the entire house sits down for a GIANT meal that has been A-MAZ-ING the last couple days.  Hopefully that'll stay the same.

Now I'm off to a bar with a few of the students and Gonzalo - the son from the host family that still lives in the house.

The Tower of Babel

Today we had our first day of class. It started with a placement test for the 100 or so students here this week. Not surprisingly, I'm in the class for people that don't know a word of spanish and come from a european(ish) country. (The Brazilians get put in a separate class because they learn spanish at the speed of a bullet... Portuguese and Spanish are practically the same language). In my class is a canadian, a dutchman, an englishman, a norweigan and two people from switzerland. The teacher barely speaks english, which means she gives all her instruction in spanish, but for the students in the class, that's a little difficult. Since we all know a few words in random languages, we work together to translate everything.

After 4 hours of group class the entire group of people had empanadas and my housemates and I met a bunch of other people. I actually found another norwiegan girl who's here specifically to learn tango - she's a competitive dancer back in norway. She and I already set up a date to go to special tango classes for serious dancers. That should be interesting.

After lunch, I had a 1-hour conversation with one of the teachers. That was an interesting hour because we spent no time whatsoever on grammar or any other technicalities of the language. We simply talked to each other, and I struggled with the many languages all muddled in my head, and attempted to answer her questions.

After class, Tamara and I went home to chill. Rafaela, the cook/maid at the house, cooked a giant (amazing) meal, and all the students sat down to eat. Between the 8 of us, we speak portuguese, italian, spanish, english, turkish, and german. "Pass the salt" becomes a very complicated sentence suddenly.

After dinner, Leslie, Tamara, Marc, and I went to the birthday party of a local, Pablo. (Thanks, Andrew, for introducing us). This party was especially intimidating because it was a whole bunch of argentines who were not specifically in the mind set to be patient with random foreigners. Of course Pablo, who's a spanish teacher, was awesome... he also happens to speak english and german fluently. But basically we had to be on the top of our game to talk to any of them. It was definitely a challenge - especially after only one day of class - but it was worth the shot. Maybe in a month I'll go to another party of his, and do a little better. Anyway, here's a pic from the party. From left to right, it's Leslie (Texan), Pablo (Argentine), Me, Tamara (Italian), and Marc (Austrian).

A New Family

It's 8:00pm, and there's absolutely no sign of the sun going down here in Buenos Aires.  It still feels like noon.  Today I moved into my host family's house.  It's an interesting situation because the family here owns a GIANT house next door to their ice cream shop.  There are a whole bunch of students from all over the world here.  Tamara and her boyfriend, Marc, are from Switzerland and speak a german dialect to one another, but Tamara is originally from Italy, so her spanish is pretty decent considering she's never studied it.  Marc speaks only English and German, so Tamara spends a lot of time translating.  Leslie, the other american here, studies at FIT, so we had a little Manhattan conversation before deciding we were only gonna speak in spanish to one another.  Then there's Camilla, a Brazilian girl who speaks spanish like she grew up speaking it... I'm jealous.

It's been an interesting day.  Tamara, Marc, and I decided to try to find the school, so we spent the majority of the day wandering the city asking locals in broken spanish where the street was.  Now we're all just sitting around a table attempting to make conversation, and translating stories into various languages.  Mariano, the younger of the two sons of the host family, speaks nothing but spanish, but he seems to love talking to us, so we take advantage.  He says he'll take us out for cervesa's later tonight.  Yummm.

Feeling Loved

Wow.  Today has redefined what feeling loved is all about.  From the minute I woke up I've been inundated with constant phone calls and email from people wishing me a great trip and asking how to keep in touch.  I went into work today and was invited to drinks with a some coworkers only half an hour after returning from lunch with a few others.  After work, I invited my entire contact list of New Yorkers to a random bar in a random part of town, and a whole bunch of you showed up.  Thanks!  and yay for last minute goodbyes!

The kicker, however, came when I got to the airport an hour ago, and was told I get to fly first class the entire way to Buenos Aires.  Suddenly the 18-hour flight ahead of me isn't looking so bad.  I get free alcohol, a nice pillow, a blanket... maybe I'll even get a foot massage or something.  On top of that, I get to sit in the executive lounge until my flight starts boarding.  There's fresh fruit and tea displayed gloriously on a table of "freebies".  Talk about the grand treatment.  This is how to travel!!