Wednesday, October 29, 2008

The build up to departure. . .

Ready for this one everybody? Here my update on the last few weeks after spring break. Believe it or not, its all very summarized. . . Pictures will be up tomorrow with this one.


October 7-12

Returning back to school was a rough transition, but actually I think my Spanish was the best it has been at this point! While staying in Brazil, it was difficult to learn another language from scratch in a short period of time. Portuguese is not easy either. So I bought a little book of common Portuguese expressions translated for Spanish speakers. It was great practice! Also, as I mentioned, the two owners of our hostel were from Chile originally, so I had to speak to them the whole time in Spanish to communicate, as they did not know much English! It was awesome, and they were hilarious to talk to. I had to drop the whole Porteno accent however, which was another adjust to get back into when I returned!

This week we had Marion Froehlich visit from San Diego, the woman who coordinated the entire program. For the past year I have been talking to her on and off, planning for this trip, and having interviews and updates about the possibility of me coming to Buenos Aires to study abroad. And now, she was visiting all of us as we were passed our half way point! She’s awesome; there were a few issues between ECELA and us, so it was pretty cool to see Marion come and fix them right away with no sweat. The program itself has been awesome for me, but some other students are kind of unhappy due to the rules and actions of the school we are studying in. Overall, my experience is perfect. There are definitely things I did not expect and that I had to get used to (like eating microwaved dinner occasionally, not eating very many vegetables or in general not eating healthier, laundry not being included in the homestay, eating alone and a few other minor things) and a few things I hope change, but nothing that ever made my trip anything less than amazing. I don’t want to blame anyone for my trip sucking anyway (if it did) because it’s up to me to make it what I want it to be!

My anthropology professor invited me over for dinner this week. He has an awesome apartment that has an amazing terrace view of a large chunk of his neighborhood, northern Recoleta. I went with Ryan Robinson and Beau, two friends I have had from City College. We all worked together on a few different projects this past year at SDCC, including the Conference for International Relief Organizations (CIRO) (www.ciroatcitycollege.org ) and a bunch of Amnesty International work and participation with the yacht 2041 (http://www.2041.com/), among a ton of other work we have all done together at that school. I can’t help but feel that I earned this trip from all of this hard work, especially since my whole time in Buenos Aires was paid for by scholarships that I applied for. Steve had a lot to say and show about his trip to Patagonia, including encounters with penguins, Orca Whales, Elephant Seals and the amazing landscape of Southern Argentina.

This week, for our Life and Cultures class, we were taught about the Gaucho and their role in Argentine history. These guys are pretty interesting, as they seem to have a lot of significance in Argentine history as well as its society today as nationalistic figures for the Argentine identity. They are roughly equivalent to cowboys that were found in the United States during the 1800s, as they existed in the same time and also lived in rural landscapes where they rode horses, hunted and hearded cows. The gauchos still live in the Pampas area of Argentina, which are like fertile South American lowlands. There is a romantic perspective of the Gauchos in Argentine culture and another opinion of contempt for the gauchos. The nomadic and simple lifestyle of the gauchos is what seems to appeal to the people. They were like forgotten people as civilization began, and they just roamed the countryside and lived for themselves. They were either Criollo (Latin American born but of Spanish descent) or Mestizo (Indian and Spanish descent mixed). Gauchos were free, they didn’t have restraints of slaves of poor populations, and they had no pressure to fight the stratifications in Argentina. They just lived. There lifestyle began to also stand as the opponent to the corrupt government who were bringing in more European influence. The gauchos weren’t going to have it; these nationalistic figures preserved Argentine cultural identity and authenticity. On the other hand, many of the gauchos were looked at as criminals as they stole from farmers and anyone else they could, they didn’t own anything and gained no respect from the people, and they also mistreated women on often occasion. The cool story about the gauchos is that they may have actually introduced Yerba Mate to the masses, now a huge part of Argentine and Uruguayan cultures. Mate is a finely chopped green tea that has natural caffeine. You drink it through a mate gourd with a bombilla (a, typically metal, mate straw). Because of its high natural caffeine content, it was a huge part of the Gaucho diet because of the little food they got to eat outside of the beef they cattled. The coolest skill they have is their precision with horse riding. They say they spent so much time on horses, that their legs began to round out like two ends of a wishbone. We followed this up with a trip to an estancia, an las pampas, a couple hours outside of Buenos Aires, the following weekend.
This weekend was a 3 day weekend, so I enjoyed Buenos Aires parks, fairs, cafes and of course awesome bars and clubs. I also checked out the Botanical Garden here. ECELA also offers conversation classes, so I attended one on the Monday we had off for an Argentine holiday. It was actually really cool, as it was set up so that we just talked for over a couple of hours about politics and the economic crisis with wall street that was affecting the world.

October 13-20

This was the week of Globalization, Nationalism and Cultural Authenticity. My perception of Buenos Aires has changed immensely since I have arrived. My classes are educating the ignorance out of me and challenging what I think I know about Latin America and the world. In the beginning, Argentina was just another Latin American country. Before I arrived, I imagined to see people starved everywhere, to see ethic wear fashioned around by the people and to overall be shocked by exotic culture and underdevelopment. When I actually arrived, I was surprised to learn how parallel Argentine history and current society is with that of the United Stated. I started to realize the huge differences as I found myself in so many interesting situations, like a women breast feeding on the bus, cab drivers almost running me down, the European styled cafes that lined every corner, the sicknesses everyone in my group has experienced, male and female dancers in clubs fully exposing their genitals, the cheek-kissing for hellos, the abrupt kisses planted on me by strangers in clubs-male and female, and even the dirty war from the 1970s and 80s that no body will talk about. I have started to piece together a better idea of what Argentina is, and understand who, what and how Latin America is.

In this weeks class we learned about TANGO! Since I have been here, I saw a show on the street (which are extremely impressive!), but still haven’t really had the tango experience until this week. I realized I have a new love to learn this dance. Since I have been here, I have been learning Salsa and Rock-N-Roll style dancing and loving them. But Tango is different; it’s slower, “mas suave” and there love and passion in place of lust that is found the sexy twists and turns of salsa. There is more intimacy involved and a different kind of expression. It would be awesome to have a really hot wife that knew how to Tango. . .
On Thurday the 16th we went to a Milonga, a place where they dance Tango, and we experienced the huge role this dance holds within this culture. Being a bunch of goofy Americans, we stood out in the serious Tango atmosphere as they gave us a show and attempted to teach us steps to the slow romantic dance. It felt a little awkward at first, but then I loosened into the groove and practiced my Spanish while learning how to dance a foreign dance. Fun! I definitely did not look as good as the milogueros who were gliding around the dance floor. It probably did not help that we were all absurdly drunk while trying to learn! I was not really as drunk, because I had arrived later after my Yoga class. It was hysterical to see some of the others, but also pretty embarrassing as they starting pissing off Argentines. It will be cool after the program to travel away from a big group of people. It will be easier to disguise myself and indulge in culture a little more.
The next day we followed up the lesson with a class on Tango history. It was cool to finally learn the terminology and a little about the history, such as “Salon Tango” where they learn on each other like an “A” as they glide around, and Milongo style with more tricks and fast pace. I had no idea that Tango had roots in prostitution and was popular with the poor in the beginning. Basically, the culture for Tango started around the 1930s, and its place in the limelight grew worldwide with Tango stars like Carlos Gardel. The images, songs and films remind me that of Frank Sinatra and culture in the United States at the same time. The teacher was a Tango dancer herself, and pointed out the difference in style that evolved through the 1900s to the present. It really has had its place in Argentine culture, as it was introduced and represented the poor classes, then transitioned into a dance with high social importance, which then turned into a tradition to rebel against in the 1960s and 1970s. The revival of Tango in the 1990s with the new style of electric Tango brings a new place for the day old tradition in a contemporary context. Now its just really cool if you do know Tango, and very respected.

I also went to a dance class that my history teacher runs. It was hilarious! It was like dance aerobics, with a lot of reggeton, booty shaking and Latin women. I never felt more white (or latino) in my life.

This weekend was the birthday of my good friend Ryan Robinson, on Friday the 17th. We celebrated after the tango lesson on Thurday with Champagne at a hip “Puv” (Pub) in Palermo, where you can find a ton of cool restaurants and bars, as well art, music and interesting people. Afterwards, we went to one of our favorite hip-hop boliches Araoz, that sport some amazing break dancing. Friday night we had dinner over his host mothers house. I think he has the best homestay. His parents are so nice, and so eager, but patient, to talk to you. It was awesome practice for Spanish. They dressed up, with the father in a tux, and made dinner for Ryan and six of his friends. Awesome home made empanadas, soup with mouth watering beef, a ton of wine and salad. She even made him an awesome whisky dulce de leche cake! Their house is comfortable to me, crammed with a ton of trinkets, furniture and photos like my mom’s house in Ohio.





Sunday we went to an estancia, where Gauchos still “exist” today. I have learned from locals that these people are as authentic as they claim to be. The Gaucho culture and customs were all packaged up and presented to us as if they still live like this today. It reminded me of Amish country in Ohio, where I grew up. There were places I used to go with my family when I was younger that were supposedly run by real Amish, but it was clear they did not follow any of the Amish Ordnung. There are authentic Amish residences in Ohio and Pennsylvania however, so I am sure the same goes for these estancias. I think it would counter their lifestyle anyway to invite dozens of city-goers onto the farm every weekend anyway. It was fun and beautiful though. They greeted us with fresh made empanadas and home made wine when we arrived. We were out in the open with countryside landscape and bright greens everywhere. It was such a beautiful day; I was just happy to be there. We got to ride horses, which was a good experience to have here in Argentina since most of the population lives on open land like this with horses.


We also watched a Gaucho horse show where they race their horses to the metal rod that hangs over head of the track, and on it dangles a ring tied to a string, and the Gauchos race their horses fast towards it and manage their position on the horse, while they flick a small metel rod through the ring. It was actually really impressive to watch. Lunch was sooo much meat, home made ice cream and a delicious salad. They put on this rad dance show as well that demonstrated all of the dances from different provinces throughout the country with traditional dress (which looks more like Amish clothing then the tribal South American dress that I imagined months ago). When I returned home, it was actually “el dia de las madres” or mothers day in English (remember, it’s spring here!) I brought my host mom flowers for the occasion.



Gauchos dancing different dances from various regions of Argentina. Here they dance "tango" from Buenos Aires.Paulu Bouscaren, my Anthro professor's son
October 21-26

This week the dreaded Yawar Fiesta critical review was due. For my anthropology class, I had to read the book Yawar Fiesta and write a report on it with the theme of the Rural Urban Continuum and its affects on Indigenous populations. Basically, it follows the classic story of the Americas: Europe arrives, settles, and seizes the land from the natives, people who have lived on and known the land to be their own for generations. In the town of Puquio, Peru, the novels setting, there evolved a stratified caste system, where the Indians were placed at the bottom. As if things could not be more unfair for those with indigenous roots, the white elite of the community now fought throughout the novel to take control over their sacred annual tradition of the Yawar Fiesta, bloody clebration in Quechua, where they released a massive bull in a ring and chased it around until they blow it up with dynamite (cultural relativism people. . . don’t judge so quickly). Anyway, as fascinating as it is and relative to my major, all I wanted to do last week was explore the city more and be with new friends! It has been so hard to stay in school mode. The program consumes so much time with classes, trips and homework, that I can’t wait for it to end! I do realize that the things I am learning are going to affect the rest of my education, and honestly changing my life in more ways then relieving ignorance. I am more than ever confident in my decision in anthropology and I am developing more understanding for the complex issues I will face in applied anthropology as I hope to be more active with what I will learn at Berkeley.

On Wednesday, we went to Café Tortoni and I experienced my first real staged Tango performance and had the complete experience of a Tango show in Buenos Aires. This the one experience we had all anticipated before the trip. Its funny I didn’t see one until the end leg of the program, as Buenos Aires is so much more to me than Tango now. But, this is what people knew as normal here. However, at one point they asked the crowd who was actually Argentine, a question few understood in Spanish and that no body responded yes to. So now I also understand Tango as a tourist attraction and part of the superficial culture of Argentina, but not definable of all its people. It was pretty cool to watch though, with a lot of flashy moves to keep your attention. And the girls were so hot! We all skipped out on homework to do this. It was necessary, but also expensive (this was one of the cheaper ones, about AR$75).

Thursday was one of the coolest experiences I have had in Buenos Aires. I visited the march of “las Madres de la Plaza de Mayo.” Every Thursday a group of (now older) women have marched at la Plaza de Mayo (“May Square”) the square in front of La Casa Rosada, or the house of the government (like the White House in the States). They have done this for thirty-one years since what is known as “la guerra sucia,” or dirty war, of the military dictatorship that ran Argentina from 1976-1983. For an explanation, read this paragraph, or skip to the next one. . . .

[Probably the darkest era in its history that is still affecting its citizens today is known as “la guerra sucia,” or, “the dirty war” in English. From roughly 1976-1983 this period of history for Argentina marked a dictatorship style government that ran the country through the military with intentions of obliterating the existence of its Leftist radical party, with hopes of restoring order and control over Argentine land and citizens. Massive human rights violations, along with the disappearance of thousands of people, were practiced by the government, as well as the oppression and total control of its people with new social policies hurting popular sectors with privatized health care, lowered wages and laws against women rights. Although a shameful period for the brilliant Latin American culture, a light of hope countered the darkness as a group of effected individuals rose to fight the injustice of the government against all odds. This social group came to create one of the most powerful and known human rights group today: Las Madres de la Plaza de Mayo.] (I wrote this in my paper, I didn’t steal it from anywhere. . .)

The march was rad, as the women still carry signs and voice their opinion of current injustices domestically and cross-globally. They defend others to defend themselves, a pretty rad message. They march to find the locations of their missing children, and still hold pictures of the “desaparecidos” that have been gone for thirty or more years. Women that still march have been doing this every single Thursday for 31 years. That’s 1,612 marches, not including the protests and demonstrations elsewhere around the world that they have organized. What started as 14 mothers gathering in front of the Pink House and asking for the whereabouts of their children turned into demonstrations with thousands, and today they have a huge global presence and one of the leading womens and humans rights organizations in the world. This is all that I was witnessing.

The dirty war is an interesting period that I can’t seem to fully understand. I try to ask questions, but still, today, no body will talk about it. Learning about mass immigration from Europe in the turn of the century, to the Peron Movement and what Evita and Juan came to be to the people of the working class in the 1940s with huge social changes among the population, to the Dirty War of the 1970s, to the Malvinas War with Britain in the 1980s, to the final installation of democracy in the 1980s (so recent in history!!!) and to a point where the dollar and peso were equal in the 1990s, and to the very recent economic collapse of the peso in 2001, all the way to where we are now, with a female president and influences from all of these very recent historical elements playing a role in how people live here in Buenos Aires and around the country. All I know is that the dirty war was a scary time, where Videla and his regime masqueraded what was murder and injustice in all aspects of their rule. All of this under the whole world nose, right here, where I am living.

We learned a little about Argentine art this week. I was a little late for this class, so I didn’t get much of what we were talking about. But the field trip to “Bellas Artes Buenos Aires” was pretty rad. So many famous artists have traveled to Buenos Aires and around Argentina during its history and left masterpieces behind here; it was pretty rad to see. It has been a while since I have been in a good museum with worthy art and beautiful paintings. I felt right at home, and it reminded me of my time working in the Cleveland Museum of Art. There was an impressive modern art area as well that tripped me out. I felt really inspired after seeing it all. For the first time I also saw a Diego Riviera painting!

Unbelievably, here I am in my last week at school in Buenos Aires. I have trouble believing that the end is here. I have become so comfortable with the city, so close with my friends on the program and my teachers at my school, and just started to meet awesome new friends. I have had homework all week long as well, so its hard to enjoy my time here without stressing over papers and tests. But no matter how this week goes, this experience has already made an unforgettable impression on me. Recognize that mouse? If guessed the president of the most powerful country in the world, unfortunately you're correct. I guess that shows you what other people around the world think of our president!

las semanas ultimas que vinieron y fueron

A blurb I wrote last week. . . . Monday October 20, 2008

The past two weeks, I have been slapped in the face by the “study” portion of this study abroad. We returned from spring break at the mid-point of our program, which entailed a huge load of work to be dumped onto our schedules. With the ton of reading, tests and papers, I haven’t been able to find the time or want to sit down and write just for fun! All my free time has been focused upon enjoying my last few weeks in Buenos Aires. I have found, too, that whenever I write in long lengths of English, my Spanish sucks for at least a day or two after. I can’t imagine how much harder it would be, but I kind of wish all of my classes were in Spanish so I would be able to practice and learn more. Despite all this work and my on and off frustration with spanish, Buenos Aires has been treating me awesome these past couple of weeks and I have completely fallen in love with this city. All I can think about is how to stay!

Monday October 27, 2008

It is unreal how fast time has moved these past few weeks. Since I have returned from spring break last month, I have been fully soaked from head to toe with school work and activities. I feel as if I returned to Buenos Aires in the beginning of October, and then got sling-shot to the end of the month! Now here I am, Monday October 27, 2008, my last week in Buenos Aires.

To catch everyone up, here is what has been going on:

September 25-28

On Thursday night, September 25, with some friends from my program, I took a seventeen hour bus ride overnight from Buenos Aires CP (Capital Federal) to las Cataratas de Iguazu. One of the seven world wonders, las Cataratas are a chain of 275 waterfalls in one the largest falls system in the world. I was so stoked! The bus ride was impressive, too. Nicer than most of the American planes I have taken, I was shocked to find out that we were fed dinner, snacks, champagne, breakfast and a little lunch before we got off the bus. Theseat reclined far back into beds and there were huge windows and movies to keep your attention. We arrived Friday morning in the little town of Puerto Iguazú around noon. From what I had been watching during the early morning ride on the bus, I knew I was finally going to enjoy some beautiful South American greenery. As I stepped out of the bus, I immediately felt the humid climate and the warm sun relax my muscles and heat my skin. “Finally,” I thought, “tropic climate!”

We stayed in a Hostelling International that was far beyond my expectations for a hostel. It appeared more like a resort. The main building that housed the reception, kitchen, bar, pool tables, cafeteria, a massage room and some of the bunks and bathrooms, was shaped like a v with arms that stretched around an outdoor pool, an outdoor tiki bar, and a social pavilion, all of which was landscaped with palm trees, real grass, sand and an bunch of exotic greens. Around the main building were little cabins for other dorms and a rad little cluster of trees for the back yard. All of us immediately got high from the vitamin D we were getting from our first real encounter with the sun since we arrived in Argentina (taking Southern Californians out of their summer to Buenos Aires during the end of winter is like putting reptiles in a freezer). We celebrated the euphoria with champagne in the pool and then followed a tour through the jungle that included a zip line, a short scale of a hill, a short hike a lesson on survival in the jungle with trap building demonstrations (during which he warned us about the most poisonous snake in that area of the jungle, which of course we later ran into. . .), and a rad boat ride along the Iguazú River that also exists as a border between Brazil, Paraguay and Argentina. It was my first time swimming in a border. It was a little “touristy,” but so beautiful and a great intro to the jungle. At night, we all got ready for the party boat along the Iguazú River. Of course it was a blast, meeting people from everywhere and partying on this huge yacht that rode along the river in the pitch black of night. I met a girl from Spain and I guy from England that I spent most of the night hanging out with. As I stood at the very tip of boat, I tried to block out the light and loud hip hop blasting from the boat to see the river and the jungle that was overflowing onto it. I could see the dark grey river narrow as it zig-zagged westward, with the plush black silhouettes of the trees border its edge, while at the same time hearing all of the chirps and hums of the nighttime creatures. When I saw the glow of the white moon reflecting from the river, I rememberd that I had completely forgot where I was: the Southern Hemisphere. I finally could see the night sky of the Southern Hemisphere, a foreign picture to me. I hadn’t seen any stars in Buenos Aires because of all the light pollution and never had the chance to look for the Southern Cross (equivalent to the North Star for us Northern Hemisphere residents) or other constellations in the nighttime sky layout down here. I enjoyed the view with a new god friend Veronica and continued dancing until too late, once again!
The park was swarming with "mariposas" (butterflies). They were so friendly, too. They would land on you and just stay all day until you flicked them off! This one had an "88" on its wings. I have never seen more beautiful or unique designs on butterflies.
The next few days were amazing. As I wrote about a few blogs ago, las Cataratas are a must to experience while you are in Argentina. They made me realize my mortality, my tiny size as a human, and why I feel stronger when I am surrounded by nature, especially the incredible creations of it Mother. I had a blast with new friends and got just feet away from an enormous fall. I opened my arms and let the mist soak me, releasing the stress built up from the city life and civilization. Although civilization is not too far: las Cataratas is a national park built up for tourists with metal brigde pathways, cameras and guards everywhere, along with tourists in fanny packs, sunglasses and bucket hats roaming around with expensive technology to capture the experience. There is always room to be critical (which I am learning to control for those of you who know me well), but of course it was still a great opportunity to appreciate nature, its creations and to see people trying to conserve it as its popularity grows. When we first entered the park on the Argentine side, it was also a little emotional to see local natives selling handmade crafts and playing music for money. They seemed pretty poor, and I was holding my $800 camera, and had just finished champagne by the pool again that morning. It wasn't a humanity crisis or anything, but a very awkward juxtaposition of lifestyles from two different sides of the world. I asked some children if I could take a picture of them and they all lined up perfectly and began playing a song perfectly in harmony. I felt a little strange, like I was exploiting the kids and they were okay with it, so long as I gave them money. It was their show that they did for everyone. It made me question a lot about where I want my life to go, and made me feel terrible about my photography hobby. I love pictures, especially travel style documentation of cultures. But, are they exploitative? I hope to never use them in such a way.
We trekked both sides, the Argentine one day and the Brazilian the next. Both were impressive, yet I definitely prefer the Argentine side. There is more interaction with the falls, a closer view of more falls, and it felt less built up. The Brazilian side is more an amusement park feel, its more expenise and has less close up encounters with the falls (except one awesome trail that take you to the bottom of La Garganta del Diablo, the biggest fall that is stationed in both countries).

September 29-October 6

Hostel Portunhol, Floripa


Florianopolis was the next stop. Called “Floripa” by the islands residents, it is located in southern Brazil off the coast of the continental part of the state of Santa Catarina. This is also described in the blog I wrote on October 6, but in short, it was heaven. The island is small and local. The culture is rather authentic, especially during the time we went which was off season, with a strong almost everyone only speaking Portuguese, forcing us to learn it. The produce was luscious and fresh, and tasted real and raw. We had fresh açaí almost everyday, we made smoothies from pineapples, kiwis, coconut milk, and enjoyed sugarcane juice that seemed to be super popular. Fresh was the theme: fresh salt water air, fresh fruits and vegetables, fresh pastries, a fresh feeling as we hiked through the tropics of the hills that rolled around the island, fresh experiences on the beach and while driving through the island, and fresh rain pouring from a few thunderstorms that passed over us. It was Ryan Robinson, Jessie, Kari and myself for a week. We became super close in this time and spent a lot of time cooking in the hostel and trying to enjoy the island life. We got a couple of gorgeous days, and a few cloudy ones, along with two days of thunderstorms. There was always something to keep us occupied, from coffee in local cafes, the beach, swimming in the Atlantic Ocean, playing soccer, renting a car and exploring the island and part of continental Brasil, making huge dinners, going on wild goose-hunt chases caused by misleading information given to us by the two stoner Chileans that owned Hostel Portunhol (clever name that mixed portuguese and español) or just speaking our crappy Portuguese and enjoying the awesome views of “Floripa.” I connected the most with a chick from my program named Angelli. We seem to have similar ideas and personalities for traveling. It was nice to have partner in everything, such as waking up earlier and enjoying the beach, hiking and we usually had congruent appetites for everything. For being twenty years old, I am definitely impressed with her maturity.

Angelli Robison, next American Super Model



Coming back to Buenos Aires was surreal. We were gone for 12 days, almost two weeks! It felt like I was coming home again. I felt comfortable knowing I was coming back to shower and bed of my host mothers apartment. By the time we returned, the winter was gone and spring was here! The first official day was September 23, and the sun finally appeared in the following weeks. This city is completely different with sunlight. All of a sudden your focus leaves the dog shit on the side walk, the dead trees, the shades of gray and clouds that hover over everything, and mean cool air that forces you to wear all the clothes you have! Now I find myself in shorts, smiling, seeing everyone else smiling, noticing more beautiful people and tall gorgeous women that I never noticed before (maybe because its warm enough to wear mini-skirts now?), and all the greeeeeeen around Buenos Aires! Now there are a million trees in bloom; the parks are suddenly bright green and welcoming with ponds and friendly soft grass. I am definitely very content to be back and have found a new love for Buenos Aires.

Random Subte music, 1 reason why I love this city.

Look for my last weeks in Buenos Aires tomorrow. . . .

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Dancing Salsa and Preventing Neocolonialism

Its after midnight in Buenos Aires. I am working on a paper based off a book I haven't finished yet. It's about (what else) yet another story of white people stealing land from Peruvian Indians and taking everything on it and following it up with employing those Indians on their own land and controling their customs and traditions. I am planning a spanish presentation for 8:15 am on Venezuela and Hugo Chavez at the same time the US is publicy expressing resent towards Chavez for his support of Eva Morales and the Bolivian government (and even at the same time that US is the number one buyer of Venezuelan oil). Right now, I am also reading a 15 page article about the exploitation of the physical cultural souvenirs that come to falsely define various indigenous groups. Meanwhile, all I feel is an angst to go out there and enjoy my last two weeks in Buenos Aires and a growing stomach over my belt. No more ham and cheese! No more desserts, please!

The past few weeks have been intense. Learning about the United States control over Latin American society, economy and mandating policies to keep these entities from advancing. Populism, nationalism . . . .what happened to the salsa-ism I was immersing myself in? There are Argentine farmers protesting, Bolivian people desperate for water, Paraguayan's dying for the land, the United States causing crashed economies and training dictators in the School of Americas (today called the Western Hemisphere Institute for Security Cooperation). And all I can say when people ask me where I am from is that I am from California in hopes that people like us better (which has been usualy true by the way). I watched videos the other day of revolts in Argentina during the peso crisis (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mJgAXlRjb5Q). People lost all of their savings, and the government would not give them a reason why. The rich lucked out and had the opportunity to move funds, while to middle to poor classes just had empty pans to bang on and no food to cook in them. Police attacked protesters, riots broke out. . .all within one of the hippest shopping areas in Buenos Aires; right by the sidewalks I have walked on and the Subte I have ridden.

My maid told me today that she was from Cochabamba, Bolivia. Coincidentally, I just read an article last week on Cochabamba where a major water crisis occurred in 2000 after their water was privitized and taken over by a US Californian water company, hoping to make some extra profit off of desperate people. They raised prices on Bolivians, citizens of the poorest country in South America, up to 200% times the original amount within a month. She told me her son still lives there today, where they only get water in the morning for a few hours, and only 2 hours after 12, everyday. The government tries to explain to them that the city is too high in elevation to receive water, she explained. I guess the government forgot about the system improvements and dam they were suppossed to install. I guess they forgot that before they stole land from people and gave it to the Californian company, people for generations had successfully extracted water from that land for generations. Luckily, the great power of the people threw the private investor out, but now they are more desperate than ever for help over managing it, and the government won't increase funding for it.

My host mother keeps referring to the "la bolsa del mundo" (literally, the purse of the world, it refers to the world economy) and the rough state it currently stands in because of the U.S.'s problems bringing everyone down. What do I think now? Globalization, privitization, foreign investors, free-trade, Manifest Destiny, the Monroe Doctrine: have there been evil inteligent being composing the history of humans?

All I really wanted to do tonight was go to a Salsa class and a drum circle. I am in South America, with some of the warmest and exotic people there are to meet! Through all the demise and awful realities, I can't get this intensity out of my blood with everything I do. With a bright-eyed gleam, I keep meeting some of the coolest people. I get to do completely new things. I danced Tango last week. I rode horses in the Argentine countryside yesterday. I have been doing Yoga in Spanish the past couple of weeks. I speak a new language everyday. I am so happy here. I really love my time here. I am completely open for opportunity here and everyday is like a new book to read, a new plot to follow. Only two more weeks here, then off to encounter more cultures while solidifying my understanding for my own life back in California. Or should I stay? . . .
Creepy results of American Imperialism and Globalization spotted in Argentina these past few weeks. . .

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

Guau, que Lindo. . .

A quickie. . . . el lunes, el 6 de Octubre 2008

I couldn't wait to start typing about my spring break trip to Brasil and Iguazu Falls. I have a million photos, a thousand new reasons to keep smiling, a bout a hundred bug bites, and dozens of unnecessary souvenirs that I hope to give as gifts to relieve the guilt of buying so much crap to signify what exactly these past twelve days have meant to me. I don't have time to sit and write the usual extensive sum of events, feelings and experiences that have aroused since my last blog, but heres a preview. Basically I just spent 12 days in the jungle and waterfalls between Northern Argentina and Southern Brazil, and on a perfect trpoical island of the east coast of Brazil.

If you don't believe in some great divine power, or have hope that this planet is more complex and that nature is more capable of divine-like creations, than you have not seen a world wonder. Las Cataratas de Iguazu (in English, Iguassu Falls) ripped open a door to my soul that had been smothered by the smoggy and systematic machine that is a big city (i.e. a congestion of human behavior). Seeing these falls made me hope that this bright blue gem that is Earth in a big black box (or sphere, cylinder, pyramid, whichever geometric shape you prefer) outshines miniscule threats such as human behavior. The amazing power of the water also put me in my place: humans are tiny and Mother nature is enormous. I stood next to a fall that emptied millions of gallons of water within minutes, right over my head. This was one of over 200 falls in a few square miles of land. Unreal. The rush of energy from this incredibly massive force catapulted me into the present, drowning out the other possibilities of cognitive activity.


I was in the middle of the jungle. This was a concept that perpetuated a mesmerized look on my face and a little kid feeling of excitement in my heart. From the moment I awoke on the bus on Friday morning, I began to feel the green I was seeing in the new landscape that was driving by me. Completely dense, bright and unmistakenably pure green vibrating from trees of every sort, thick and tall grass, dangling vines, gigantic leaves and countless numbers of exotic and diverse vegetation growing thick and gloriously. I kept running around with my camera, trying to absorb where I was with my eyes, while at the same time trying to compose the masterpiece that is with a machine, the opposing force of my subject! I got a bunch of great shots for books and stories, but the most valuable souvenir is the vision I grasped a hold of and stored in my mind under "possible heavens." I wanted to swing from the vines, climb the trees, or just sleep under the canopees.




Florianopolis, Santa Catarina, Brazil
For the first time I got to zip line through a jungle, take a bus for over 20 hours (three times actually, all in South America-another first), swim in a river that works as a border for three countries and eventually turns into a world wonder, get soaked from a waterfall, build amazing friendships with people while watching their beautiful intricate qualities seep through their anonymous identity, watch a live harp player, eat real brazilian produce, get up close to and touch wild oxen, party on a private boat on the Iguazu River, witness a rainbow develop over the mist of a waterfall and become highly addicted to Kinder Buenos (Mom-you have to figure out how to get a free box of these from Ferrero for Christmas!!). Florianopolis was amazing as well, an island community situated beautifully in nature, with tropical flaura, vibrant nature, a landscape that would cause anyone to gasp and constantly hault in thier foot steps to stare, charming architecture with bright colors and very interesting local cultural appeals. Best of all, it was safe and trusting, something I never thought I would experience in Brazil. It seemed like what Hawaii would be like, but on a much smaller and almost poorer scale. I definitely want to return one day.

I came home today with no money. I tried taking some out of 5 different ATM's and was denied. I noticed a lot of other people getting denied, too. I can't figure out why. I mentioned it to my host mother, and she explained something in Spanish that I only caught the gist of. Something relating to an action by the United States. Something about Bush and a large economic "mishap" that is temporarily causing issues around the world in other economies. She explained it to me like it was normal, something like, "Oh, you know, your president spent too much money again and now we can't get any more money today. Try again tomorrow." I told her I was amazed by how much of an influence my government had on the rest of the world, to which she responded, "of course, its logical. Your governent has so much control over so much of the world, and a lot of my own country." It reminded me of their peso crisis of 2001, and foreign American banks stealing money from Argentine citizens to revive loans that were originally created in corruption of a military regime that was enforced and supported by yours truly, the government of the U.S.A. It was kind of cool and relavent to think about all of this right after returning from vacation, and from a neighboring country with a large number of people living on the fine line of poverty and barely getting by. Brazil is a whole different world, and I ain't seen nothing yet.
Now I have to stop. Its late, and I haven't even started the stack of homework that I actually have to do for the study portion of this study abroad. Of course it includes a ton of spanish homework, journal entries for my Argentine Culture class (yes! more journaling!), 2 critical reviews, a book report, a mid term paper on globalization (all of that for my anthro class) and a ton more reading for my History of the Americas class. However, no matter how much more I love to party Buenos Aires style, I am grateful to take these classes and solidify a better understanding of the development of this country, this continent, and this side of the world. I have so much more in common with Latin America than I thought, yet my government has so much control over the future and stability of Latino societies and maintaining the separation that United States citizens have from the rest of their brothers and sisters of European colonizers and ethno-mixes.