Transportacion

A word I had never seen or heard until I got here (defintely not the only one) turns out to be one of the most used, by me anyway. Colectivo is the word for a bus that takes you short distances and follows a fixed route so you can intercept it anywhere along its route.

I have taken a taxi once since I arrived (a fact I bear with pride) from the airport. Since then I have either walked, taken the Subte, or taken a bus everywhere I have wanted to go. The network of buses here is amazing and you can´t walk four blocks in the Capital Federal without coming to a place where the bus regularly stops. It costs one peso (or about .30 US dollars) to ride anywhere in the city, provided you don´t disembark from the bus, which is easy to do because close to thirty routes come within very close walking distance to my house and they go in all different directions.

The principal guide to learning how to navigate the huge system (there are upwardsof 400 fixed routes with varying number of buses, but some have as many as 40, in the entire city) is called the Guia "T". The "T" is in parentheses because as well as being a guide to Transportation, it is also a pun on the phrase "guiate" or "guide yourself." As well as being a very in-depth guide of the bus routes, the Guia "T" is a great map in that it is pocket-sized and subtle because the Porteños use it too.

Taxis, while cheap, cost many times more than the bus from, say, Belgrano (a neighborhood where lots of kids in my program live), yet some kids haven´t taken anything else. Many use the excuse that it is safer, when, in reality, it is quite the opposite. Unless you call ahead and have a taxi sent to your location by one of the many accredited companies, you cannot be completely sure of the ride (and even then, can you tell?). But these can take upwards of 45 minutes to get to any given location in the city, a substantial amount of time when you´re in a hurry. Not to say that they are all dangerous, just that there do exist tacheros who are definitely chancy.

The Subte, as the subway is called here, is very efficient, if at times crowded, dirty and not very far-reaching. There are five lines, and a few above ground trains that go to the suburbs. It costs the same no matter how far you want to go, again, one peso. Unfortunately, there is not a station incredibly close to my house (six block walk), but it is useful for reaching those outer barrios.

My goal is to visit all 48 barrios of the Captial Federal. I have visited (consciously) 26, and am averaging about three per week so stay posted as I put up some pictures from the highlights of my excursions.

Dulcisimo

The ice cream here is not for the faint of heart.

For $1 US, you can get 1/4 kilo of the thickest, creamiest, sweetest ice cream in the world that I´ve visited. Helado is a different thing entirely from what we Americans call ice cream. Mostly the stuff there in the US is something we have to limit ourselves to, by serving ourselves a smaller portion, and savoring it. Here, if you tried to eat that much, you would not only be so full you couldn´t move but also so sick of ice cream you wouldn´t want it for a week. All you need is a tiny bit to go a loooooooonnnnngggg way. There is a stopping point to how much you can eat.

My favorite flavor is dulce de leche with caramelized walnuts, but occasionally will branch out to dulce de leche with bonbons, dulce de leche with chocolate chips, or if I´m feeling really adventurous coconut with stripes of dulce de leche. Technically, I haven´t tried a flavor without dulce de leche (and why would I?) and that´s saying something because I eat a lot of helado.

The stuff here is a perfect blend of the flavor of gelatto with the added bonus of being incredibly thick and creamy. Plus there´s dulce de leche.

This is going to be a short post because I´m getting hungry. This post was inspired by my conversations with Daniel Kaufman.

A Few Photos

Here are a few photos from my trip to the Gaucho Ranch:

Imbibed!

Here I am, in my kitchen, drinking extremely hot liquid (almost boiling) out of a gourd filled with a vile, bitter-tasting, herb through a metal straw, scalding my lips, roof of mouth and worst of all, tongue. Why, you may ask? Why indeed! The most popular drink in all of Argentina (by a landslide, too) is mate, an inexpensive, hay-like, tea that is consumed in very traditional ways.

First of all, fill the mate (the name of the gourd as well as the herb) two thirds full of loose tea. Heat your water until it is not quite boiling, but about too, because of the supposedly different taste that boiled water imparts on the tea. After filling the mate the rest of the way with water, sip as fast as you can through the straw so as not to let it cool down. Never, ever, pass the mate. Finish it, in one slurp, if possible.

Saying "gracias," the traditional word of thanks here in Argentina, is akin to saying, "No, thank you" in English, a polite refusal. A silly habit that I was taught was to always thank someone for the gift they´re offering, so instead, you must comment on where the mate was purchased, or, "¡Que rico!" the best response, especially for a foreigner.

One should never move the bombilla (pronounced bohm-BEE-shah), because it stirs up the tea and lodges it in the straw, not a pleasant experience for the drinker or the cleaner.

All of the "criollos" (cree-OH-shohs), or native Argentines, drink mate, but los "Porteños," or people from Buenos Aires drink it "amargo" (bitter). Those from the interior drink it sweet with sugar. When I went to the campo, I tried mate with sugar and disliked it, I prefer the bitter.

Overall though, I prefer this drink: the Café Cortado. It is a shot of espresso (the espresso here tastes different, toasted and almost nutty) and an equal amount of steamed milk, often topped with foam. I stir in a packet of sugar, and am content for three hours, reading and sipping. A great tradition here, is the bringing of a cookie and a glass of water with any coffee you order. I can hear Borders cursing that they lost one of their best customers (at least in Santa Fe), because I am a total convert.

Soy Tanguero

I have now visited two distinct Milongas (a type of music as well as the hall where tangos and milongas are danced), one in the barrio of Palermo, called SoHo Tango. There, before the show, I had a two hour dance class, learning many of the basic steps and getting the "box" down and starting a few turns and fancier steps.

We attended the show after the lesson and saw some amazing footwork, akin to no dance I´ve ever seen, with an incredible communication between the pair. Typically the woman´s eyes were closed (the man´s stayed open to avoid choques, or crashes) which shows that her feet move in response to what is communicated to her, and in fact, looking around would be more distracting than anything helpful. Never did I see any pair fail to do this (except my partner and myself, of course).

Then, last night I went to La Catedral, another Milonga made from a restored depot from the 19th century. The lesson was vastly different, involving a large group moving counterclockwise around the hall. It was a fantastic time being swept away by the large crowd of dancers, many of whom were beginners as well. You could (and we did a couple of times) pull aside the teachers and ask if there was anything we could change, and they would tell, or more often show, you how you could improve. I had a blast.

After the lesson, again there was a show, but this one had live music. And not just any live music, it was a trombone quartet. They played tangos and milongas mostly, but they were all four part pieces and they were great. I was so floored by this, and they played for an hour, at least. The friends with whom I went were a little impatient for it to end though, but I savored it. All of this and two drinks (yes, one of them had alcohol, Mom) cost me $8 US. This is the life.

River 4 Life

I had the most authentic cultural experience of my trip so far yesterday. I attended the fútbol match of River vs. Gimnasia. I, of course, was for River (never would anyone ever switch their allegiance, probably in their entire life). My host brother, Francisco, leant me his jersey (thank goodness because there wasn´t a single person not wearing a jersey of their team).

The goals were the loudest, most energetic displays of happines I´ve ever seen. They involved leaping up, screaming ¡Gol!, and hugging the guy next to him (regardless of acquaintance or even allegiance) , and then buying a coffee from the guy who walks among the crowds, like peanuts at a baseball game.

I so enjoyed the game, and intend to go to another very soon.

Beef!

¡Hola!

I went to a very traditional (if tourist oriented) Gaucho ranch today. There was a montón of food. This post is *not* for vegetarians.

We arrived and they handed us empanadas (stuffed with vegetables, meat, cheese), after which we got on horses and trotted around and got to gallop a little bit. We then sat down for lunch.

We started by taking a little of each of the salads, huevo con papas, and soda already on the table, and then came the inundation. First the chorizos. You could tell the gaucho/mozo/asador how many you wanted and I wanted two. Next came the morsillas (blood sausages) which were surisingly good. The people around me didn´t care for the one that they took so I relieved them of it, adding a total of 4 blood sausages.

Next came the steaks. First, the ribeye style with the meat that surrounds the ribs, two of which found their way to my mouth and then stomach. Of course, all of these are cooked to perfection, and there is no option of rare or well done, it is understood that it is cooked the correct way and asking for it to be cooked more would be inappropriate.

Finally, the bife de loma, the ojo de bife (they are one in the same) came. This is the delicious, fatty, incredibly soft, thick, and juicy steak that Argentina is famous for. It was all it was cracked up to be, and more. Simply inexplicable.

I´ll post photos eventually, but my method involves transferring the pictures (via the memory card) to my host mother´s camera and then uploading them, so I´ll do them in more of a clump than what would be optimal.

That´s all for now.

Buenos Muertos

These are from my most recent excursion to the cemetary of Recoleta, one of the most exclusive in the world, where Evita Peron (among many other very rich people) are interred.

Settling

Hi everyone, from Buenos Aires, Argentina.

I am settled in my house and my first week here has been awesome! City life suits me well. Classes have started and I am picking up Castellano (pronounced cah-ste-shah-noh), or the brand of Spanish that is spoken here.

My family here is a true asset because of the stability and regularity it provides, two meals a day, a bed at night, hot showers, etc. The city can be a little overwhelming at times, but that is definitely better than being underwhelming.

Everyone is incredibly helpful, laid back, patient with my halting language skills, and proud of their great city. The Spanish here is beautiful, more reminiscent of Italian because of the ll and y which are pronounced differently than the rest of the Spanish speaking world.

This is only my first post, but there will definitely be more to come. Stay posted!

Speed