BLISS is spelled with two 'S's?

The days following Thanksgiving remind me of why I came to Argentina.  To regain my sanity and appreciate life.  We spent all day after Thanksgiving on a river boat, cruising the deltas of the Tigre River in celebration of Vero’s birthday. Natural Huckleberry Finns just floating down the river.  Amigos, sun, beers, a spectacular view of the river and an unshakable feeling of contentment were my surroundings. 

And because obviously it would be unjust to end the fun there, the following day we carpooled over to the city of San Isidro, where our friend David’s grandparents own a gorgeous Quinta, which is essentially a quaint vacation home complete with a pool, parilla (grill),  tennis court, huge lawn to roll around in (for the dog, of course) and several hidden rooms, reminiscent of a house out of a Harry Potter movie.  His grandparents now live in Uruguay, so thankfully we had no one to disturb.  2 days of Quinta R&R, throw in some meat for an asado and 20 bodies in the pool and I’d call that party.  Fue buenissimo!

Turkey, Potatoes and Wine, Oh My!

We celebrated Thanksgiving a bit unconventionally this year.  Firstly, we were in the middle of an Argentine summer, sweltering in the humidity and stifling heat.  So you can only imagine what cooking a turkey in a small kitchen would be like.  Secondly, finding a turkey or Pavo in Buenos Aires is quite a task.  What they do sell in stores are a joke as it’s not Turkey season, most turkeys are in their spring/summer rotation, not plump enough for a hefty American Thanksgiving.  Our best bet was to go to a specialty store that specialized in novelty foods and game.  We found the perfect 25lb turkey, a big boy probably imported from Brazil or something and that’s where it all began.  As we have many international friends, Thanksgiving is not a familiar concept to them and because we were hosting, we tried to suggest what types of dishes to bring while we took care of the giant turkey and stuffing.  What resulted from this were several variations of potato and sweet potato dishes and an international bazaar of food.  I have absolutely no complaints about eating left-over turkey and potatoes for a week.  Trevor man-handled the turkey and stuffing while I supervised his inebriated state of cooking.  Something about the 2 bottles of wine he drank while his hands were deep inside that turkey did wonders because it came out golden brown and tender to the touch (that’s what she said?).   It was an amazing night that we were able to share with friends who have never experienced our beloved American tradition of gluttony.  Combine this with a hot, hot summer and lots of wine and you’ve got yourself the perfect Thanksgiving!

Chef Udwin in our tiny inferno of hell

our lovely decorated terrace, whose brilliant idea was it to put candles? MINE.

SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH! Drunk chef making his initial toast

Carving the turkey

My little German butterfly ravaging that turkey

Faces from around the world...

Wine, Fernet, Wine, Fernet, Wine, Fernet

Ladies' Man

Creamfields Nov 2011 BsAs

Creamfields.  Fields of cream.  However you say it, my first electronica concert, which happened to be in Buenos Aires on Nov 12th, easily muscled its way to my top 5 concerts.  It was full of good vibes, or Buena Onda as they say here in Buenos Aires and good company.  One of the only reasons why I really went was to see David Guetta (the only familiar name in the lineup) and he turned out to be a surprising disappointment as he clearly has become so mainstream and commercialized that while being in a club and listening to his music renders nothing but fun for me, being at a concert and hearing no recognizable beat brings down the mood significantly.  Other DJs blew me away, however and we all found ourselves dancing for hours until the sun came up on the city.  What an indescribable feeling to be with great friends in the middle of one massive dance party as the sun is rising just beyond the horizon.  QUE BUENA ONDA!

The Crew

David Guetta

Dancing to our hearts' desires

Watching the sun rise

Proposal Abroad

I won’t divulge too many of the intimate details that led to my hysterical breakdown as a response to being proposed to (it was a ‘yes’ btw) but I will leak the following:

1.        Kip surprised me on our 2^nd to last day in Mendoza by telling me to pack my things at the hostel and had someone pick us up to take us to a wonderful little estancia vineyard called Club Tapiz for a day of indulgence.  I’m a simple girl, with simple needs, like a massage, manicure, pedicure, poolside lunch service and AC.  That’s all I ask.  It was surely delivered. 

2.       You would think that any girl would assume a proposal if her boyfriend requests to set up a candle lit dinner outside next to the vineyard. I guess I’m not any girl because this wasn’t my assumption.  I waited 7 years, I just figured I’d have to wait and wait and wait some more-  after grad school, after starting a business, after kids, a house, yeah I was thinking that far ahead.

3.       Whether you’re expecting it or not, when that moment comes, you never really have a grasp on the situation and in my case, you totally lose it. Yet through the uncontrollable sobs and Kip’s horrified stare, I managed to muster up a YES, OF COURSE!

4.       And in true psychotic girlfriend fashion (now fiancé), I waste no time sharing every detail of the wedding I had already planned a year in the making. In my defense, it’s been 7 years. SEVEN YEARS!  I’m pretty sure he wanted to run right then and there but we just laughed and decided to slow it down a sec considering we just got engaged 5 minutes ago.

5.       The rest of the night was spent celebrating and skyping with family and friends:)

Mendoza Wine Country

A week in Mendoza offered a week of relaxation, adventure and surprises.  Kip and I decided to splurge on our 12-hour bus ride and get seats labeled “Cama Ejecutivo”, which included leather seats that reclined 180 degrees,  a small individual television and headset, blanket, eye covers, wine service, wi-fi, chocolate and a pastry, a dinner that was surprisingly too much to finish and shared the same qualities if not better than plane food and finally, coffee and juices for the morning. The U.S. could learn a little from Argentina about quality bus service.  We arrived to a sunny and humid Mendoza around 11am the following morning after an all-too comfortable bus ride through the night.  We stayed at Hostel Empedrado for the first night only (which was recommended to me by someone in my first hostel I stayed at in BsAs) since the first hostel we had booked didn’t have the first night available and found it very quaint and perfect for socializing.  While it is quite a few blocks away from the main plaza, it was less than a 15 minute walk.  We met a few Brits here who we later randomly encountered again on the bus to go wine tasting and ended up forming a fun little group for the bike wine tour. Hostels serve a great purpose! The next day we moved our things to the sister hostel, Hostel Mora, which is a bit more tranquil but just as beautiful and new. 

Adventure:

Wine Tasting Bike Tour-  Ask any young person who’s been to Mendoza where and how to go wine tasting and they’ll all tell you one name:  MR. HUGO’S.  This little bike company run by none other than Mr. Hugo himself has made a name for his himself in the traveling community.  Firstly, you need to take a 30-minute local bus ride out to Maipu but fear not, there’s only one bus number  and every bus driver knows where you’re going if you say Mr. Hugo’s.  It was the day after Halloween so our bus was filled with spirited foreigners dressed in wigs, capes and spandex tights which made me sweat just looking at them because it had to have been at least 85 degrees or hotter outside.  Once you arrive at Mr. Hugo’s, you’re somehow no longer in the quiet town of Maipu but in backyard tropical oasis, complete with free pitchers of wine, a bottle of water and party music to set the mood for an entire day of peddling. Starting before 12pm is key because not only are there lots of wineries to see but they’re fairly spaced apart even for biking.  It was suggested to us to go to Familia Di Tomasso first, which is the furthest and the nicest and work our way back inwards.  We made it to two wineries and a tiny bohemian beer garden tucked far from the main road before surrendering to the heat  and drunken stupor and calling it quits.  Afterwards, more wine awaited us and at the end of the night, Mr. Hugo makes it a point to walk you to the bus stop and wait until the bus arrives. Great business etiquette!

The rest of the week was followed by river rafting and horseback riding in the Andes and venturing out to a club full of locals where a cover band played classic latin rock songs which we pretended to know.  The next post will contain pertinent information about what happens when a 7-year anniversary trip turns into an all-out proposal….

Familia Di Tomasso

Lil' beer garden

With Mr. Hugo at the end of a LONG day!

Notes on BsAs

True to form, I’ve hit my lazy peak and put off writing for the good of no one.  Maybe I’ve been overcome with the uber-lax and carefree Porteño mentality, where time knows no limits and life is too good to care.  Regardless, I’ve procrastinated too long and now would like to share with y’all some accumulated points of interests I’ve come across these past 4 months in the lovely Buenos Aires:

·         Greetings are important here.  You greet everyone with a kiss on one cheek (not two), whether they are friends or strangers and leaving a party can be quite an investment of time as typically you kiss EVERYONE goodbye.  I love this about Argentina.  I’ve been told Americans are “cold” in our greetings with a wave of hello or a handshake. Guess we can’t get anything right!

·         This is a dog-obsessed city but clearly not an excrement-cleaning-obsessed city because the sidewalks are abundant with poop.

·         Women wear their hair VERY long here, young and old alike, and let’s not forget the myriad of plastic surgery options, which proves to be a bad combination for men who see a hot bod and long hair from behind and as she turns, BAM! She’s 60. Oops.

·         Argentines use hand and facial gestures like a deaf …. Ok too much. But yeah, the gestures are a hoot.

·         Dulce de leche: a thick caramel-like, milk-based sauce that is in EVERYTHING. Personally, I’m not the biggest fan, although it is starting to grow on me only because it’s literally shoved into my face every chance I turn.  I’ve told people about my lack of fondness for DDL and immediately get the “wtf is wrong with you” look.

·         People ACTUALLY pay to get on buses here!

·         Why do they call croissants “medialunas” when in fact they are not half a moon but more so a third moon? Think about that!

·         Drinking mate (pronounced mah-teh) is like a cult following.  You have your gourd, your yerba, your straw, your thermos and your bag to carry all the said items.  People walk around with their mate like we walk around with our massive starbucks/pete’s/coffee bean lattes. Yeah, it’s like that, except they share and we don’t.  And their gourds look way cooler than our blah cups.  There is an entire set of rules that needs to be followed when drinking Mate, which will be presented in another post.

·         Fútbol (or soccer as we call it) teams are passed down in family tradition like last names.  It’s in your family, it’s in your blood.

·         Best meat and wine I’ve ever tasted in my life came from Argentina and they’re damn proud of it too.

·         Dinner at 10pm, Previa (pregame) at 1am, club at 2am, home by 6am.  These have been my weekends.  Nothing like coming home from a club or someone’s house  when the sun begins to rise and birds are chirping.  I guess the walk of shame doesn’t exist here.

·         So yeah, racism. Anyone who’s Asian is called CHINO and anyone with dark or tan skin is called BLACK. Hey at least it’s a simple system right?

·         Ask any Argentine kid if they know what peanut butter is and they’ll cringe at you.  My response? “ You eat caramel on toast for breakfast, how is that not gross?”

·         Milanesas. Empanadas.  Pizza.  If you don’t know what these are, you’ve clearly not left your hostel or apartment. Ever.

·         You have to consider every cab driver as shady and willing to give you fake bills as change, so always come prepared with small bills in the cab!

·         Argentina time: 1.5-2 hours after proposed time, yup, TIA: This Is Argentina!

·         Argentine men often describe Argentine women as “hysterica”, which doesn’t necessarily translate to ‘hysterical’, it just merely describes a woman who is back and forth, hot and cold, plays games, lays it on heavy and then backs off, dramatic then plays it cool, etc My teenage boys  at my camp definitely use that word a lot.

·         An ASADO is NOT like a bbq, not in the least bit.  An asado entails the following: an asador (the person in charge of cooking the meat), a parilla (often times a large fire pit of a grill) and massive amounts of wine and beer.  Meat is not slathered with sauce but tastefully salted and peppered, every piece of meat is cut and shared with everyone and at the end, someone always makes an announcement for a round of applause for the asador (or in my case asadora).  Drinking continues. When it’s your first time being the asador/a and people clap for all your blood, sweat and tears, there’s no feeling like it!

Just a few observations.  The longer I’m here, the more and more I fall in love with the culture, the people, the city.  Stay tuned for more.

Mate

Dia de La Primavera Asado - Now that's a REAL asado!

Asado

Making empanadas

Homemade empanadas

Kip makes making empanadas look difficult

Adrienne's Bday, an example of having to kiss strangers on the cheek:)