Tigre and Día del Campo

After charging us ridiculous amount to study abroad ISA throws in a couple of trips to justify the cost. The first two were day trips to Tigre and out to the country. The catch with ISA trips is that their strict no drinking policy paired with awkward amounts of free time and lack of activities make for some uneventful trips.

Tigre is an hour north of Buenos Aires by train. It’s a popular destination during the hot summer months because it’s by the shore of the Mar del Plata, although it’s not water I would eagerly jump in. Beach houses and country clubs line the muddy banks. It’s also where Sarmiento, an Argentine political figure, was born and his house stands preserved in a glass box.

Sarmiento's House

We took a long boat about an hour up shore to an out of the way island. When we got there a group of thirty or so crossed a giant rickety bridge from the dock to the island where we had a few hours of free time. The problem being there wasn’t much to do. There was a volleyball court, tables and chairs to lounge in, and a restaurant whose chef hadn’t shown up yet. We lazily lay around and waited for him to show up, slammed the kitchen with food orders as soon as he did, then spent the rest of the time waiting for our food. The next leg of the journey was to “Puerto de Fruta”, a port where there is in fact no fruit. We had just enough free time to walk around aimlessly without really accomplishing anything before hopping on a bus to head to the coast. This last stop was actually pretty cool and there was a great view of the city.

View from the Coast

Día del Campo followed suit with our trip to Tigre. The whole idea is to give us a better idea of how the gauchos (cowboys) used to live on the pampas. We all met early at the university and loaded up on a bus that took us to the country for the day. One of my favorite parts of these trips is seeing my friend, Vanessa, stumble onto the bus from the night before. She has this determined ability to stay out until 6am at the bars and get up only hours later to be a semi-contributing member of society. After a quick powernap on the bus we showed up to the campo for a fun-filled ISA day of horseback riding, bread making, bike rides, potato sack races, tug-a-wars, and most importantly eating and sleeping.

Figuring It Out

Monday morning Natalie and I were standing in the elevator struggling with the lock when suddenly her keys slipped from her hands. We stared at each other in disbelief as we listened to them plummet eight floors down the elevator shaft. Of course we were running late and decided to rescue them later.

Our Madre had drawn us a map where to catch the colectivo (city bus) to take it to campus. It picked us up and we sat patiently as the bus took us in the complete opposite direction. Hoping it would turn around at some point we waited almost twenty minutes before finally giving up and getting off.

When we got home that afternoon Natalie unsuccessfully attempted to fish her keys out from the elevator shaft with a bent wire hanger. She admitted defeat and confessed to our Madre what had happened. Ana laughed as she heard Natalie reluctantly admit she had dropped the keys down the elevator and told us our doorman, Alfonzo, could get them for us.

That’s when our Madre told us, “You’re not in the United States anymore. Argentina is a third world country.” Although I would argue a country with Wi-Fi at every café is probably not third world, it can definitely be a difficult city at times.

For starters I have been in this country for three months and still haven’t completely figured out the public transportation. Throughout the city there are extensive lines of colectivos, the subte (subway), trains, and taxis when all else fails. Literally hundreds of colectivos run the streets 24 hours a day daring any car to compete for space on the road. To figure out which colectivo you need to take there’s a guide of streets and grids where you match bus numbers. But for every bus number there are numerous different variations that take similar paths, but never quite the same. To say the least I get lost. A lot.

Then there is not only the language barrier, but the porteño language barrier. People from Buenos Aires, or porteños, speak castellano, a completely different form of Spanish than anywhere else in South America. Instead of tu they use a varied form, vos. To add to this their accent sounds more Italian than South American and their pronunciation is completely off. When I first arrived I couldn’t understand a thing. I was worried I had lost all of my Spanish after not taking classes for almost four years. Turns out it wasn’t just my bad Spanish.

Although this city is difficult at times, I absolutely love it. The most important thing to understand about Buenos Aires is that a porteño is completely different than anyone else in Argentina. Even if you talk to someone from Rosario or Cordoba or Mendoza they’ll tell you how stuck up porteños are. The more I experience it though the more I realize they’re not stuck up, just incredibly proud.

You Mean We Actually Have Class?

The tricky thing about living in another country for four months is that sometimes you forget you actually are there to do something, in this case study.

When we first arrived there were a slew of meetings, orientations, presentations, and city tours that we were obligated to attend. Class didn’t start for a week. Instead we passed the time exploring the city and traveling back and forth between the ISA office to the University of Belgrano for different meetings. I was getting use to the idea of continuing my three month winter break. Unfortunately I had to snap back to reality and start classes.

My School

My program offers the option of taking classes in either English or Spanish. This is great because it means I can understand what is going on in my English classes, but not so great because I only have classes with exchange students. While I have met people from Italy, France, Austria, and all over the States, I haven’t met any real Argentines at school. Either way, classes are easy and only meet once a week for two hours and every week is a three-day weekend, which has made traveling on the weekend that much easier.

My Class Schedule

• Spanish Grammar (Spanish)
• Globalization in Latin America (Spanish)
• Argentine Economic History (English)
• Political and Social Change (English)
• Argentine Literature (English)

Mi Nueva Familia

Our flight landed late so Kyle and I missed the big group meeting where all of the students were pawned off on their new host families. Instead we took a private car that dropped me off at the doorstep of my new apartment.

I walked up to the building, luggage in hand, and anxious about meeting my new family. I hesitantly pushed the call button for the apartment. No answer. Pushed it again. Still no answer. I was beginning to get nervous when I realized I was pushing the button for 8A, not 8B. I tried again, now to the correct house, and immediately heard my madre’s voice. She said she would be right down (or I assume that’s what she said because it was in Spanish and I was too tired to think after the long flight).

I was pleasantly surprised that there was an elevator to our 8th floor apartment. We headed up stairs where I immediately met my new roommate, Natalie, who is also from Colorado. After all of the traveling all I wanted to do was go to bed, but the three of us sat in the living room, put our feet up, and began talking. I think Ana caught on quickly because shortly after she showed me to my room where I immediately fell asleep.

My Argentine Family

Ana: My Argentine madre. She works at a school and has lived in Buenos Aires all her life. She’s always shuffling around the house in her platform shoes, or worrying about the next trip we’re about to take and how we’re doing in school.

Luciana: Ana’s 21 year old daughter. She was in New York when we first arrived, but came back mid-March. She’s rarely home because she takes care of her niece during the day, has school at night, and spends her free time with her boyfriend.

Natalie: My new roommate and partner in crime in Buenos Aires.

And So It Begins

My trip began as I imagine most six-month journeys do: with lots of tears, goodbyes, and the chaos of too much to do and not enough time. I woke up at 5am for my 3:10pm flight in a mad dash to finish moving all of my belongings into storage, run last minute errands, and say all of my goodbyes.

By 1pm I was in the car with Morgane, Jenn and Jenn’s puppy, Benji, on my way to Sky Harbor. The four of us made our way through check-in and they walked me to security. We parted ways and they watched me as I waited in line for security while continuing to yell our goodbyes back and forth. I’m sure airport security would have told us to be quiet if it weren’t for the loud scene of crying, hugging, and saying how much we would miss each other, we had created only moments early.

As I lost sight of them I mentally prepared myself for the journey that was about to begin, only to run into one of the fraternity brothers who was heading to Reno for National Convention. He asked me where I was heading. “Buenos Aires”, I replied. When I was coming back, “Sometime in August”. That’s the beauty of one way tickets; you never really know where they’ll take you.

I had booked my flight so I would be traveling with another student from Arizona State, Kyle. Our flight was scheduled to take us from Phoenix to Mexico City with a layover in Hermosillo, my favorite little airport in the world. A quick change of planes then an easy over night flight to Buenos Aires. If only this were the case.

I quickly managed to leave my iPod on the plane while going through customs in Hermosillo and was overcome with relief as one of the airport security guards ran out to the runway to return it to me. Losing my iPod this early in the game would have been detrimental. I made a mental note to pull it together as we continued on to Mexico City. A couple hours later Kyle and I got off the plane and began the task of tracking down our luggage. When we finally made our way to the Aero México ticket counter, I knew it was a bad sign when a saw “STND BY” printed on my ticket and the man behind the counter hurriedly making phone calls. When he finally looked up I could tell it was bad news.

AIRLINE WORKER: “I’m sorry Ms. Hall, but the plane has been overbooked.”
ME: “But I need to get to Buenos Aires by tomorrow morning.”
AIRLINE WORKER: “Come back at 11 to see if you have a seat.”
ME: “But the flight leaves at midnight.”
AIRLINE WORKER: “Come back at 11.”

Turns out Kyle had had the exact same conversation one desk down. We left and started scouting out places to eat and possibly sleep. Two hours later we returned to the ticket counter for great news. Not only were we on the plane, but I had been bumped up to first class. Okay, maybe better news for me than Kyle but at least we were on the plane. I felt bad for a moment as he walked past and I was being handed a glass of champagne, but quickly forgot about it as I fell asleep in my oversized seat.

Great Gypsy Gourney

Friends, Family, and Fellow Travelers:

Last summer the Great Gypsy Gourney began as my friends and I made our way through Southeast Asia. Although Cody and Grace began the adventure, I’m sure they won’t object to continuing its legacy in Latin America.

My journey begins in Buenos Aires, Argentina. Over three and half months I’ll try to see as much of the country as I can while whole-heartedly attempting to meet my 85% attendance requirement at school. As soon as finals end June 19th I hop on a plane to meet my friends, Jon and Nick, in Panama City and continue up the Caribbean coast into Costa Rica. After a two week solo-adventure and possible visit from my mom and brothers, I meet my boyfriend, Joee, in San Jose. From there the race begins to see as much of Central America as possible before flying out of Cancun, Mexico, in mid-August just in time for fall semester.