nos vemos, argentina // hola, EEUU

{{posting this now that i'm in the airport in santiago de chile with a wifi signal, but i wrote this earlier this afternoon}}

     right now i’m at a sunny table tomando un café mediano. things that feel real: the reggaeton playing in the background, the refrigerator behind the counter stocked solely with liters of quilmes beer and containers of diet yoghurt, the south-american sun beating down on me through the window. it’s hard to believe that less than a day from now, i’ll be touching down in dc. it seems like a million miles and several dimensions away. a friend i made here once described argentina as being “1 hour and 30 years away” from the united states. the outdated haircuts everyone has here seem to prove this true. but travel is always strange in that it’s impossible to reconcile such disparate realities; how can both “home” and “away” possibly exist at the same time, each chugging along and continuing to live and change? it’s much easier to operate under the misconception that any place where i’m not present simply freezes in time until i’m ready to return to it. 

     it will feel weird to be home. although i spent the majority of the summer at home working most days to save up money, somehow i think this is different. leaving and coming back changes a person. things feel more transient now, which is both good and bad. less stuck in the mud, but also now hyper-aware of what i’ll be missing whilst home. i’ve been trying to focus on small moments, small places, small memories. it keeps me from feeling overwhelmed with my conflicting emotions about leaving argentina. i’m looking forward to the way the sun-dappled leaves of the dogwood tree in front of my room will glow orange in an autumnal sunset hymn every night. i’m looking forward to having my first bites in six weeks of curry, pad thai, falafel, and most of all, mom’s home-cooked food. i’m looking forward to driving down to politics and prose on a rainy sunday and camping out with my journal and my laptop and really, really working on my writing. i’m looking forward to seeing deer grazing in rock creek park. i’m looking forward to reading the washington post as i drink tea in the morning. i’m looking forward to finally wearing my favourite black jeans that i didn’t have room for in my suitcase. i’m looking forward to practicing yoga whenever i please.

and likewise, i don’t want to forget the minutiae of my time here in argentina. it’s easy to remember the big things- the gleaming expanse of the salinas grandes salt flats, the day we baked alfajores with prison inmates, the simultaneously addicting and revolting taste of dulce de leche, the souvenirs and photos that i’m bringing home. but i want to make sure i remember the little things, the things that don’t seem particularly important or memorable right now, but that i’ll forget about if i’m not careful. how some bus drivers had a picture of the virgin mary on the top of their gearshifts. the way salta looked at night from the roof of the hostel, all gold lights in an inky sky. the smell of a wildfire on the side of a highway. listening to the boys i worked with show off their beatboxing skills. the toothpaste-like taste of fernet. the feeling of outsize satisfaction upon doing something vaguely independent, like going to the lavandería, buying groceries, commuting to work alone, having a functionally correct conversation en español. the way my fitted sheet never seemed to stay on my mattress properly. sitting on the steps of patio olmos, reading the horoscopes on the billboard across the street. the melancholy of a ten hour bus ride, and waking up at 5:30 a.m. at the end of said bus ride with a kind stranger’s jacket warming my knees. 

i don’t want to forget the people, either. not just the close friends i made, the coworkers i spent time with, the cousins i met in buenos aires, the boys i worked with at my placement, but also the bit players in my argentine universe. the farmacity employee who looked like jason schwartzman. the taxi driver last week who complained to marit and me about his wife’s weight gain, complete with before and after photos. my favourite alfajor vendor, a wizened old lady, at córdoba’s feria artesanal. the little girls at copa de leche who asked me to draw them all pictures of long-haired princesses in ball gowns. the parking attendant on duty in front of my house, who invariably, regardless of the day’s weather, commented on how lovely córdoba is in the springtime. 

i haven’t even left the country or the continent yet, and i already want to come back. there are so many weekend trips i never got to make: mendoza, iguazú falls, patagonia, montevideo, santiago. i wish i could have spent more time in buenos aires, and i would happily stay in córdoba longer, working hard and spending time with friends. but that’s the crux of travel. you always crave more, and no time ever feels like enough time. i’m proud of the fact, though, that i made this trip be what i wanted it to be. this journey has been memorable and educational in all the right ways, partially by circumstance but partially because i’m learning to make my life happen how i want it to. i’m exhausted. and i’m lucky. i’m lucky i’m lucky i’m lucky i’m so lucky to be doing the things that i’m doing. the past six weeks have been difficult, stressful, and full of unexpected obstacles, but they have been incredible. i can only hope i’ve made a shadow of the impact on the people and places i have encountered here as they have made on me. 

x

msb

alfajores, anti-trafficking, and other life tidbits

this past week and a half has been incredibly busy and taxing, but incredibly gratifying. a week ago  thursday, some of us went to the correctional facility for adolescent girls where some of the human rights volunteers work, and we helped the inmates bake alfajores. it was a lot of fun to get to interact with the girls in the prison, and fascinating to get to see the facility, as generally no visitors from the public are allowed. 

last sunday, the human rights volunteers ran a fundraising and awareness event in a local park. the event served a dual purpose. one was to sell the alfajores that we had baked two days prior, since the facility is consistently underfunded by the government. marit and helena, who work with the girls at the prison, are going to use the proceeds from the bake sale to buy the inmates a hair curler and some makeup that they've requested. it's a nice way to teach them that they have to work for what they want, and give them a bit of a treat. the other purpose of sunday's event was to raise awareness about human trafficking in conjunction with basta de trata, a local NGO that projects abroad assists with. BDT set up a table in the park and as their employees handed out flyers and keychains about trafficking, we human rights volunteers (and other projects abroad volunteers, who showed up to help as well!) ran activities- asking people in the park to write their dreams for a better world on balloons which we hung from a bridge, fingerpainting with kids, and more. 

baking alfajores.

the finished product!

collecting balloons

and putting them on the bridge.

on wednesday, my volunteer partner and i ran a workshop with our boys at the correctional school, educating them about what their rights are and how to protect themselves if they get in trouble with police. the boys were really receptive and participatory, which was exciting. some days of work are challenging, but this was a particularly good day. 

other than that, i've been working on other human rights work- helping to distribute invitations to a community meeting in blas pascal, interviewing the city's homeless population, and more. i spent this past weekend at oktoberfest in villa general belgrano about 2 hours away with a bunch of friends, which was a lot of fun. and i'm beginning to get preemptively nostalgic about leaving argentina. lately i'm acutely aware that my time here is limited, so i've been busy buying souvenirs for friends and family and checking things off of my argentina bucket list. it's hard to believe it's been nearly six weeks already. i feel so settled in and satisfied with everything here; leaving will be tough. 

until next time,

xo 

m

p.s. every sunday, there's an impromptu tango dancing session at a plaza downtown. here's a snippet of video that i took last week: 

48 hours in BsAs

i'm a week late in posting about buenos aires, but better late than never. another weekend, another overnight semicama bus trip- this one was under 10 hours, which was great. marit and i set off on friday evening armed with warm socks and melatonin, and arrived in the capital around 6:30 on saturday morning. 

cold, sick, and tired, we nevertheless spent all day from around 9 a.m. to 10 p.m. exploring as much of the city as we could manage. our hostel, where we stopped to drop off our bags in the morning, was situated in barrio microcentro, a neighbourhood downtown where many of the city's tourist locations are located. 

buenos aires is stunning architecturally. microcentro looks like a strange mix of paris and d.c., and the entire city oozes old-world charm.

one of the few spanish-style buildings that i saw. after gaining independence from spain in the early 19th century, porteños veered away from that style of architecture. 

our first main stop was plaza de mayo, a large square that was the site of the 1810 fight for independence. it was unfortunate that we weren't there on a thursday, because every thursday the abuelas de plaza de mayo congregate to stand vigil for the desaparecidos of the dirty war. 

posing in front of a human rights sign. 

a memorial about the falkland islands, or islas malvinas as the argentines refer to them. 

on one end of the plaza, flanked by political graffiti, is la casa rosada, argentina's white house.

after taking copious photos, we headed north, walking through barrio retiro (known for its parks and green space) en route to recoleta, an affluent neighbourhood full of history.

in recoleta, we decided it was an absolute necessity to make a mid-morning pitstop at la biela, the famed cafe where the authors borges and casares used to hang out. apparently, la biela is also famous for being a hangout spot for formula one racing champions in the 1950s, but i think it's fair to say i'm a bit more interested in the cafe's literary history. today, la biela is a tourist destination along the lines of cafe de flore or les deux magots in paris, but we did see a satisfying number of locals enjoying their coffee there as well.

cafe con leche was overpriced but worth it. 

my bros jorge y adolfo.

right nearby was the cementerio de la recoleta, where all of the old-money names of buenos aires are entombed. the cemetery felt like its own city, full of intricate stonework and beautiful marble.

eva peron's grave is there, and all you have to do to find it is follow the crowd of people.

for lunch, i got in touch with my third cousins who live in buenos aires and whom i had never met. they were so, so sweet to marit and me; they picked us up and we went out to lunch at their friend's upscale italian restaurant in las cañitas. the food and the conversation were great, and it was incredible how generous they were towards me purely on the basis of being related. family ties are an amazing thing. i'm so glad i made the effort to contact and make plans with them.

after lunch, they dropped marit and me off at MALBA (museo de arte latinoamericano de buenos aires) in barrio palermo. we were exhausted but still ended up spending around an hour exploring the museum, which contained art from well-known latino artists such as frida kahlo and diego rivera alongside argentine artists i had never heard of before- some of new ones i discovered included nicolás garcía uriburu, luis felipe noé, and more.

in the early evening, we were tired and headed back to the hostel, seeing a few sights along the way.

el teatro colón

evita's face is everywhere. 

the next morning, we headed over the weekend feria in san telmo, an old neighbourhood full of cobblestone streets, colonial buildings, and gorgeous street art. 

look me in the eyes and tell me this doesn't look like paris. 

afterwards, we took a taxi to the barrio of la boca, home to the boca juniors fútbol team. 

la boca is a mix of high and low; it is a working-class neighbourhood and is rough around the edges, but yet contains one of the most highly-touristed streets in buenos aires, calle caminito. caminito is known for its brightly-painted buildings, abundance of tango clubs, pizzerias (there is a strong genoan heritage in la boca) and scores of shops peddling boca juniors apparel. we were warned, however, not to venture onto side streets, because the barrio turns from crowded and touristy to barren and dodgy very quickly.

selfie time.

the only proper photo of the two of us all weekend... oops.

afterwards, we continued attempting to at least see as many parts of the city as we could by taking a cab to puerto madero, a formerly industrial area on the waterfront which is now debatably the most expensive block in the city.

puerto madero reminded me a lot of southwark in london, with its sleek high-rises and posh restaurants superimposed over what used to be a gritty riverfront area. 

then we headed to barrio norte for lunch, where we used my 1% of remaining iphone battery (!) to look up the address of a health food restaurant we had heard about. marit and i were both irrationally excited to eat something a bit different for a change.

a gratuitous photo of my tofu curry. 

happy camper because ethnic food and tofu. 

it was an adorable restaurant and shop- they also sold baked goods, smoothies, and all kinds of healthy specialty foods. 

with only a few hours remaining in buenos aires, we stopped in congreso on the way home to see the national congress, which is identical to the capitol building at home, except for in this terrifying shade of grey.

pigeons everywhereee.  

after that, we packed up our things and caught an overnight bus home to CBA! two days was most definitely not enough time in buenos aires. i could easily spend another week just sightseeing in and around the city, and i would happily live there, sipping cafe con leche, following fútbol religiously, and riding the subte like a real porteña. 

until next time, 

xo 

m