Hostels y camps y casas, oh my!

Just when I thought I was wrapped in the serenity of a no-more-than chilly Argentine winter, a blast of ice cold misery decides to present itself. Okay, let’s back up a couple of days. Last week at the hostel, my roommate from Quebec, Maggie, decides that it would be fun to dye Cara’s (roommate from Michigan) and my hair, not all of it, just strings and pieces. The bottom portion of Maggie’s hair is stunningly purple. So naturally, she had purple dye along with pink. Cara got strings of purple and pink while I decided to stick with one little streak of bleached rusty blonde/brown near my temple so that it peaks out just a bit. I figure, new country, new ‘do! Thanks Maggie!

After finally securing a room for Kip and I at a very cool looking house in a neighborhood called Almagro and with roommates I can’t wait to get to know (El Salvadorian girl and her French boyfriend and a Danish guy), I took off for two days for training for my new job as a camp counselor for an English Immersion program. The idea is to have 3-day camps that allow children of various ages and stages in English development to become immersed in the English language. The camps are themed and kids are only allowed to speak English. All Spanish-related items are confiscated at the beginning of camp and all counselors are Native English speakers from all over the world (Ireland, USA, Australia, New Zealand, England and South Africa, we didn’t have any Canadians at the training;)). The training brought out the children in all of us as we were expected to do and learn everything the children will be going through during the actual camps, from arts, crafts, campfire songs, dances from various English-speaking countries etc All the camps are at least an hour outside of Buenos Aires, mostly in provincial areas and I’m really excited for my first camp, which I believe is in September.

And finally, today I left my hostel and am at my new house. It’s already 3pm and most of the roommates are still sleeping, it’s just how it is here in BsAs;) Ciao!





Me and Maggie after she dyed a piece of my hair!



My first Mate experience

Part of the house I live in

Counselor Campfire

 

Colonias de Inmersion al Idioma Camp Counselor Training









Sunday Market and Copa America

People geared up to cheer for Uruguay in the Copa America (vs. Paraguay). Uruguay won! Buenos Aires was all fluster that night 7-24-11

 Sunday Markets in San Telmo, miles of vendors! It went on FOREVER.

Note to self: While BsAs is very dog friendly, watch out for LOTS of loose tiles and dog piles...

Sushi y Vino

After viewing two apartments today, snagging an interview on Monday for a camp counselor position in an English Immersion program and booking two more apartment viewings for tomorrow, I joined some of my hostelmates in splurging for some sushi tonight for dinner. Between 6 of us, we ordered 3 trays of 30-piece sushi and went to the corner store to buy 4 bottles of wine, Malbec being two of them, of course and went to town. I can’t even begin to explain how interesting this dinner was. For starters, there were at least 4 different languages going on at once. There was a couple from Brazil, the guy was Japanese but spoke Portuguese, Spanish and English and his girlfriend, being Brazilian spoke Portuguese and Spanish but no English. There was the German girl, Carine, who spoke German with the girl from Holland, Wanda, but also interchanged between Spanish and English, which they were fluent in both. Then there was me and Leelah, from Missouri. We both spoke Spanish and English (although my Spanish was questionable), so you can only imagine the hodge podge of tongues being spoken at that dinner table. The funniest part was having to find out about Amy Winehouse’s death today in Spanish. I thought, at first, I was mistaken in what I had heard, perhaps they had wished she was dead? But it was confirmed with both enthusiasm and sympathy that the news was, in fact, true. The rest of the night was hustling pool! I found it very useful that the Brazilian girl didn’t speak English because I was thrust out of my comfort zone in order to make any attempts at conversation with her.

Day 2, Don't worry I won't blog every single day;)

Last night, I ended up passing out 9pm, the first of my 5 roommates to fall asleep and when I woke up, everyone was already gone from the room. I checked the time and I had slept until 10:30 this morning! I needed it though. After shamelessly sleeping for more than 12 hours, I finally got dressed, grabbed a map, some cash and my camera and headed out to venture into the streets of Buenos Aires. I walked up Avenida  9 de Julio, one of the main roads in downtown Buenos Aires, parallel to the waterfront and leading up to the Obelisco de Buenos Aires, a national monument. A few protests appeared here and there but they were calm.  Further to the right of the Obelisk were several pedestrian streets full of little shops and restaurants that I perused but didn’t spend. The only thing I bought was a 4 peso empanada con queso y cebollas (cheese and onions). Everything is so ridiculously cheap here. I went to look at an apartment in another neighborhood and on the way back, decided to brave the subway (it was either this or walk 20-something blocks back to my hostel) and it only cost me 1.10 peso, which is roughly .33 cents? Fabulous. The subway system is nothing to fear, it’s well labeled and easily understood. The only thing to fear is claustrophobia during peak hours. It’s literally time to pack like sardines but otherwise, it’s harmless and enjoyable if people-watching is your hobby. One key observation about Porteños y Porteñas (Argentinians, specifically those living in Buenos Aires) is that they are very stylish, very fashionable and very good-looking. The women are beautiful and the men are really handsome (or at least so they say, not that I’ve been looking, Kip).  I have never seen so many cute boots, scarves and coats in one city. Everyone is just so well dressed, men, women, young and elderly alike. It’s the tourists that dress poorly in comparison. Then for the rest of the night I hung out with a few Brits and Irish people and exchanged a few S. American travel stories, some disturbing, some funny but all in all, I remember why I love hostels so much, you get to meet the most incredibly interesting people!

Arriving in Buenos Aires

(View from my hostel balcony)

I’m here. I can’t believe I’m here. After what felt like an eternity of airports, layovers and stale airplane air, I somehow made it without a hitch and can relax at the hostel. So let’s sum up the last 72 hours, shall we? I get back to SF after a month in Oceanside, have 2 days to pack up the apartment while simultaneously packing for a year’s worth of belongings in Argentina, Kip drops me off at SFO, we say our goodbyes and I’m suddenly thrown into a wave of pseudo-anxiety attacks at the realization of my vulnerability of being a lone female traveler for the next two weeks. 8 hours pass on the plane to Lima, another 8 hour layover (never doing that again) in Lima between midnight and 8am, where sleep never came and then a 4-hour flight to beautiful Buenos Aires! Both legs of my flights were blessed with empty aisle mates, giving me ample room to sprawl and commandeer seats while watching a grand total of 5 of the many choice movies offered by LAN. Again, sleep deprivation wins. As we begin to descend into Buenos Aires, I catch a glimpse of the acres and miles of plotted landscape with small clusters of civilization blotting the terrain. It’s calming, somehow.  The area right outside of the Ministro Pistarini International Airport is reminiscent of a drive I once took with my parents  to Vancouver, flat lands with bare-leafed trees. It’s a beautiful winter-esque sight, it is a bit chilly here since it’s in the winter season but very comparable to SF weather, so I’m not too worried about what I packed.

After thinking they’ve lost one of my bags and having to hunt it down at another carousel before feeling like I might burst into tears, I found my shuttle driver from the hostel waiting patiently for me outside the terminal. He didn’t speak English so it was a pleasant 40-minute drive to the hostel where my high school Spanish was pushed to its limits but got me roughly through conversation. Right off the bat, it was already evident that I’d have difficulty with Argentine Spanish. It’s rapid-fire but sounds melodically similar to Italian. And finally, here I am, Hostel Arrabal in the San Telmo neighborhood, a more European feel with its cobble-stoned streets and architecture. It’s one of the nicer hostels I’ve stayed in and has a full kitchen so I went to a corner market a couple blocks away to buy some food to cook here for the next couple days. I’m greasy from travel and all I want to do right now is shower and sleep!