July 23, 2002
23 Julio 2002
Speaking of bad smells, I am a little nervous about this trip because Teresa invited a friend along. This lady Graciela, she has been stuck in a Posadas for awhile now, she is from Santiago, Chile and she can’t get home because she is afraid of flying and the mountain pass is closed due to snow. She seems like a nice lady, even though she speaks so rapidly and with a different accent that I can’t comprehend, but she smells like mothballs!!!!!! Teresa also invited Graciela to share our hotel room, to save expenses. So I don’t know how this is going to turn out.
Teresa has me booked for 3 different sigh-seeing trips in Cordoba, a city-tour that the ladies will join me on. Then 2-10 hour tours to see sights outside the city. The trips are a little more expensive than the ladies feel they can afford so I am going out on my own on those. Cordoba is (I have heard) a very cosmopolitan city, with lots of people, lots going on and lots of shopping. I can’t wait! Teresa wants to head back on Sunday, but if I like it a lot I might spend a day or two more on my own. I am not going to make that decision just yet, but it will be nice to be in a big city!
I am not going to take my computer along as I feel that would just be asking for extra trouble, so this is my last journal entry until at least next Monday. Still if I see an internet café along the way, I intend on stopping to send an email or two.
I have come to the conclusion that every city is the same city. There are supermarkets, convenience stores, restaurants, gas stations, post offices, cars, streets, houses, apartments. If you don’t speak the language, chances are, you will still be able to get your way around, especially in these days of travel books and internet information. What then sets a city apart from another, or for that matter, one country from another.
Langauge, certainly. What else? One thing different here, there are dogs everywhere!!!! Also they aren’t fixed, so when I try to explain the concept of spay/neuter people think that it is pretty odd that we would do such a thing. Occasionally cats in apartments are fixed, so they don’t spray everywhere but that is it. So dogs roam everywhere in the city, some pets, some wild, your guess is as good as the next. Before I took this trip I had a consultation with some nurses and they were VERY adamant about not petting dogs and cats here, even pets in the homes. Apparently rabies still exists in this part of the world, and I can tell for a fact there are tons of fleas. I have definitely started looking where I put my feet a lot more.
One of my favorite differences is seeing someone in a motorcycle drive down the street with their helmet crooked in their arm. Seems like it would almost be easier to wear on your head. So I asked Celso about it. He said, “well, there is a regulation that you have to have a helmet.”
“But, its legal to wear it on your arm and not your head?”
“Well, helmets are uncomfortable, they get in the way of your vision.”
“Why have one in the first place?”
For long road trips where people drive faster, it is common to wear a helmet and no other time. But for legal appearances you should at least carry one around with you. They feel he same way about seatbelts, too. Still it does seem odd. I still laugh when I see someone drive by on their motorcycle holding their helmet.
This last Sunday we kicked it at the house all day and it was really nice. We ended up watching two Argentinean movies, “Nine Queens” and “Son of the Bride.” Both were excellent films, the first being a con-game where you are trying to figure out who is going to screw whom, in the end. The other is a really sweet movie about a man who finds himself re-evaluating his life after a newr-death experience. I wouldn’t be able to tell you which is better, really, if you get a chance, see them both. Maybe we could start a petition at Blockbuster, to start carrying these films. They were both played in Seattle back during the SIFF (but they weren’t a part of the festival, I think) so maybe they will just come to rental stores anyway.
I guess that is it for now, nothing really crazy has happened to me lately. I have a feeling Cordoba is going to provide some good stories, mothballs and all
July 18, 2002
18 Julio 2002
When I first arrived in Posadas, we all went to the house of the daughter who lives right in town. Everyone sat down to the dinner table and we ate some salad and some empanadas. I had already eaten on the plane and just ate a little so as not to offend anyone, but by the time they cleared all the plates, I was sufficiently full. Then they brought out the real dinner……..oops! It was a stew, with meat, sauce, potatoes and veggies. One of the daughters dished my plate up first, with tons of meat and veggies. How to explain that you are already full and you thought the last course was the whole meal? Not really possible, so you eat some, try not to offend (especially when they keep telling you to have more, more, more).
For the next week or so, I kept falling into this trap, eating the first course like it was the only course. It isn’t like they sit down and explain it to you, either, because it is natural to them, not an anomaly. I finally learned to pick and choose because there was definitely more food coming. This led to my next series of misunderstandings.
Two weeks ago, winter vacations started for the people who live in Cordoba. So the niece of Teresa and her family (Silvia, husband Alejandro, grandfather Tomas, son Ariel and daughter Emilce – yes, I spelled it incorrectly last time) piled in the car and drove to Posadas, a matter of some 13 or 14 hours. The night they arrived there was a big dinner at the house of Cecilia, including all of us at this house, all of Cecilia’s family, all of the family of their other daughter and all of the nieces family. Some 19 people. On our way over to Cecilia’s house we stopped and bought 8 pizzas and beer and wine. Well the last time we had pizza it was just a starter so I treated it like that. I had 2 pieces and then no more, knowing that some huge course of beef was imminent. Is there any polite way to ask, “Is there more food coming?” So far, I haven’t found it.
My wine glass kept getting filled and then they brought out the beer, the local beer Quilmes and I was curious to try it, as Kevin and I have found that local beer is always a delight. So I had a couple of glasses of that, as well. It was good, by the way. The wine glasses and the beer glasses are all considerably smaller in Argentina than they are in the States, so it wasn’t like I was trashed or anything, but I definitely needed the next course to come out. Well, it wasn’t to be. Pizza was it and by the time I realized, it was all gone. At least I was smart enough to stop drinking beer and wine, but I did have a small headache the next day.
This last Tuesday was the birthday party for Cecilia (40 this year, a big birthday, therefore a big celebration) and also for Tania (13). Cecilia’s husband Sergio made this great cheese fondue, there were little finger sandwiches and my favorite, spinach empanadas. There was also a lot of wine, and later on in the evening, champagne. What there wasn’t, was a real meal, and I was trying to save room for the later that never came. There was a fabulous chocolate cake, and that is when the champagne was opened, for all of the toasts. Since I was the “wine expert” on the premises, I was also the designated “taster” of everything, although I am proud to say I didn’t have one bit of the fruity sparkling wine. Again, the next day, I had a nice little headache, and to boot, a queasy stomach.
This leads us into the next set of misunderstandings. We were supposed to leave for Cordoba the previous Sunday but I remembered the birthday party before we bought tickets and I didn’t want to miss it, therefore we put it off. Teresa said to me that after the birthday party, on Wednesday, we would first go to Salto and then on Friday, or Saturday, we would go to Cordoba. Well in my guide books, Salta is a region and it isn’t that close (note the slight difference in the words). I asked how long we were going to be there and I thought I was pretty clear, but my question was misunderstood because I thought we would be gone for 3 days, instead it was just a day trip to a waterfall I had asked about previously. Salto being the word here for waterfall. So I packed a bag for 3 days worth of traveling, and tossed it in the car.
Before we were to leave on our excursion, I went and took a private class in Español from a lady that Teresa liked as a teacher. At 10 pesos per hour, the cost of instruction was minimal and why not have some classes in conversational Spanish? I certainly could use them. So I went over to Pilar’s (the professor) house and had an hour of instruction. This is a woman who breeds these huge dogs that look like Weimaruners (I don’t know how to spell that word) but they are white with brown spots. She has 6 of these huge animals, and certainly none of them are fixed and her house smells, well like it has 5 male dogs who aren’t fixed, living in it. (the 6th dog the father of the others, is too old to breed now so he is fixed) Slightly hung-over, queasy stomach, it wasn’t a grand time. However, I held it together and after an hour, Teresa came to get me. Celso was there as well, which seemed strange to me, as he works in the evenings 4 nights a week and we were going to be gone for some of that. Well he asked me how long I thought we were going, I told him 3 days and he just started laughing. “Three hours is more like it,” he said. Yup, just a day trip to see the waterfall.
Teresa had forgotten to give Cecilia her present and before we left she wanted to swing by the house and drop it off. When we got there, Silvia and Emilce hopped in the car. “Oh bloody hell”, I thought. I think Silvia is great, but her two kids have absolutely no manners, especially the little girl. When she wants something she just says, “I want that.” So I say, “what do you say?” Her response? “Give it to me.” No please, no thank you, and she is even worse to her mother, who just seems to ignore it and hand over whatever object of desire is lighting the little brat’s eye. Anyway, I didn’t realize they were coming too!
One of the biggest pains of being an adult, is that when you dislike someone, you have to ask yourself if it is because they reflect something you dislike in yourself. The more you dislike the person, the more you see of yourself in that person, is how the saying goes. I was getting a pretty good hate-on for this little girl, yet she seemed to show up for every event. I couldn’t even get away from her. Maybe I am supposed to learn a lesson here. Maybe she reflects something in myself that I don’t like. After some thought, I have decided that sometimes, you just hate a person because they deserve it.
Well we got on our way and the day was absolutely gorgeous. We dropped Celso off at the farm, because he had some work to do there and continued on our way. After awhile, there was a nice scenic view and we stopped and had a picnic. After a little food, and a little water, I started feeling much better. Again, we got back in the car and went on our way. It wasn’t until I saw the sign for Salto Encantado, that I realized just where we were headed. A few weeks before, one of the professors at the Institute told me about this great waterfall in the area, really pretty, very tall and there is a legend connected with it. If you are having trouble finding your one-and-only, if you drink from the water of the fall, you will find your true love. I had asked Celso about this waterfall and he told Teresa and because of ME we were taking this day trip! HA! Once I realized where we were going I told Silvia and Teresa the legend and we all had a good laugh about me bottling some water up for Kevin to drink when we got home, so that he could look at me right after.
So we get to the area and we are just above the fall, nice enough but not good enough for pictures. Teresa and Silvia had talked to one of the guides (you have to pay a small fee to get into the park and then they give you a little map) and she told them about this nice hike. Just 2,000 meters to the fall. Teresa and Silvia explained this would be like going 20 blocks in the city, sure, why not? I had finally remembered to take a camera and extra film somewhere, so why waste all that driving? We start along, me fighting the mosquitoes (had forgotten to put on OFF, however) but the path seemed awfully straight and we were losing the sound of the waterfall. I finally asked Teresa when we were going to start heading downwards. She then told me we were walking to see some other waterfall in the area. WHAT????????????? Hmmmm, well it is a long walk, perhaps the view is even more spectacular at this other waterfall, named Salto Picaflor –little flower. The word ‘little’ should have clued me in, but as usual, I had the greatest hopes.
Well, as a wise man once said, “Be careful what you ask for.” We soon started a descent. This walk took us an hour to reach the waterfall and the last half of it was straight down a muddy path, with tree roots for stairs. Now I can walk straight for hours upon hours, make it a downhill path with steps and my muscles aren’t as clued in. In fact, even when I feel strong and good and not tired, walk down a couple of hundred stairs and my legs start shaking. They don’t even feel weak! It is sooo weird, those muscles must not be developed, meaning I have some work to do in the future. Just after the sign stating that we only had 700 more meters to go, we reached the steepest slipperiest part of the path so far. We all kind of looked down it and asked ourselves if we were prepared to go on. However, we had bloody well walked this far and I was going to see the damn waterfall. I would hate to just walk to the middle of the forest and give up, walk back out and not see anything more than trees and mosquitoes. We get to the waterfall and it is cute and nice and all but it isn’t the Salto Encantado. Picaflor, indeed.
The first half of the walk back out was a real pain. Definitely putting a stair master to shame, and boy was I glad I had worn a new pair of shoes! (When I went back to buy those great Italian shoes I saw, I also found a pair of cute “Merrell” style slip-ons in red suede, but at least they were comfortable and had traction.) However, the last half of the walk is practically all flat, with some areas of decline, it was a cake-walk after what we had just been through and it gave us all a chance to catch our breath. Little Emilce had started bitching about wanting water and being tired about 20 minutes into it, but to her credit, she made the entire walk without assistance. Even though we hiked for 2 hours, to a waterfall I didn’t even want to see in the first place, I am really glad that we went. I felt like I had just done some really good exercise, and also improved my character. We went to the little hutch and got a liter of coke and we all split it.
Then Teresa asked me if I wanted to make the hike down some stairs to see Salto Encantdo. I was really torn. We came to this waterfall because of me. I did want to get some good pictures of it, and I was a little disappointed that we had spent 2 hours hiking to see something much less spectacular. However, I was kinda tired. I decided to can it, let’s just go home, so I said, “well, I don’t know.” Teresa asked me if I was certain. Then that niggling doubt started to come in, I DID want to see the waterfall. Just when would I get another chance in my lifetime? Probably never. Well, why not? Why not.
What was that again about being careful for what you ask for? We got to the beginning of the hike downhill, there was a sign, 450 meters for the hike, 266 steps, a total distance of 150 meters of escalation (what is the opposite of escalation? I forget, anyway the waterfall apparently drops approximately 150 meters). We started down and this wasn’t some nice straight down, modern staircase. Nope, it was a lot of switchbacks, with some cement blocks tossed in for traction. When we finally reached the bottom, you couldn’t even see the falls!!!! You had to jump some rocks in the river, walk a wooden plank and get about in the middle to get a good view. So, I did so, took some pictures and then headed back to where the others were. They asked me if I had drank any of the water, so as to reaffirm my true-love for Kevin. I hadn’t, so Silvia and I decided we were going to do it, I myself would have been happy to go back out to the plank and scoop some of that water, but Silvia wanted to get as close as possible, so we started frogging it. It was great fun, we were laughing and getting pretty close. The rocks were getting pretty slippery and Silvia almost bit it, once. But we got up there and tasted some of the water. We headed back, and then I slipped, but just ended up sitting on a rock, a very muddy wet rock but I didn’t go in. No I decided to wait to fall into the river until just after I said to Silvia, “I fear NOTHING.” Thirty seconds later half of my right leg went right into the river. Still it was quite funny, I didn’t hurt anything and if my shoes got ruined, well they only cost about $10, I can buy a new pair.
I have to say, I was REALLY glad that there was a suitcase in the trunk of the car with 3 days worth of dry clothes in it. Sometimes, a misunderstanding is a good thing. I wore clean dry clothes for the ride home.
July 15, 2002
15 Julio 2002
Still, even with the daily routine, that doesn’t stop my mind from constantly seeing cultural differences, or seeing a scene that I feel like I have to tell everyone about. For instance, the driving here. I haven’t ever been so frickin’ scared in my LIFE, not even on the “Tower of Terror” ride at MGM Studios in Orlando, FL. Out of curiosity, one day I asked Teresa if the people here had to take a class before getting their licenses. She took this to mean that I wanted to drive !!! AAAAAAAhahahaHAHAHahhahaha As BLOODY if. Well no surprise to me, there is no pre-requisite class for first time drivers, nor does such a thing exist, even if you wanted to take such a class. Luckily, you can’t drive until after you turn 18. The reason there aren’t any classes is that there are very few rules to driving around here. Everyone here drives in the imaginary lane. Right in the central district everyone drives about 15-20 miles an hour, with minimum slow-down at intersections, if you can get across the street before that other car hits yours, you’re good! It is NUTS. The first week or so I was cringing all the time, but now, I have adjusted and I can see that everyone here doesn’t have a death wish, it is just a different style of driving. There still isn’t a chance that I want to drive……..well, ok just a small chance.
When I go to the Institute, I usually walk back home on my own, because there aren’t any set times that I finish. However, when it is really late, Teresa comes and gets me. (interesting side note: I tried to ask Teresa for a ride, using a direct translation, and she didn’t understand, it turns out that when you want a ride, or you are going to give a ride to someone you say, “I’m need you to look for me” or “I will look for you.”) Well one night, on a ride home, I noticed a car with a bottle or water on the roof. I thought to myself, “well tomorrow, that person is going to feel awfully silly when they see their water bottle on the car!” We drove past that same car a few days later, it hadn’t moved and it still had the bottle on top. Strange. Finally after about 2 weeks, I said something to Teresa about it. Turns out when you want to sell your car, you leave a bottle on the roof. I felt sooooooooooo dumb and I laughed and laughed. After that I noticed a few cars here and there with bottle on them, one an old bottle of cooking oil, another more water. Just like learning a new word, suddenly you hear it EVERYWHERE. Did it just start getting used so frequently? Nope, you just finally hear it.
After three weeks I can say that I am understanding almost everything that people say, even when they speak fast. The television doesn’t seem to much a blur of noise, either. I am also venturing out more in my speaking. However, sometimes when I am ripping along, I realize I have gringo-ized the whole sentence…..then I have to drop my voice and relax my mouth and kind of speak around the words, drop a few endings.
Today I went shopping for souvenirs. It turned out just like Christmas shopping, for each thing I saw that I thought someone else would like, I saw 5 things that I wanted. The things that I wanted were considerably more expensive, too. In my defense, I didn’t buy anything for myself, today. Also, I do need t o buy another pair of pants because with only 3 pairs of pants I have to do a LOT more laundry than I want. The old college adage doesn’t hold true, as long as there are clean unders you are safe from laundry duty. Of course, I brought a lot more underwear than pants because underwear is lighter to carry.
However, I already know that there is a long coat-style blue sweater, and a really gorgeous amethyst ring that I am going to buy for myself. They also have those really cool Italian-style shoes here or red and black leather (and only something like $10!!!!) so of COURSE, I have to get a pair of those. I am sure that is all that I really have to buy for myself. HEY!!!! Everyone, stop your sniggering! STOP! In the end, if I have to, people will get postcards and photos as gifts. (Another side note: at the farm there is tons of quartz in the ground, so if I find something spectacular and not too heavy, someone might get a nice rock as a gift. Also there are these cool long seed pods on one of the trees here. When they dry out they look kind of like swords, or sticks and when you shake them they sound like a musical instrument. They are SO cool, and I found 2 of them, if I find 2 more, I know what all the nephews will get.)
Surprisingly, postcards turn out to be amazingly expensive, almost .75 each! Difficult to find too. The first set I found were real pictures, then at the Jesuit Ruins they were soooo old that they were yellow, then today I FINALLY found real looking postcards. You practically have to hawk your jewelry for them, though.
There is a lot of great music here, both traditional and modern. I have also found that even the “adults” like a lot of the modern music that their kids listen to. (Note to Steve J, Thalia, the next BIG thing here, I plan on finding a CD, if it isn’t too much I will get one for you as well, if it IS too much, well then I will…….hmmmmm, we won’t speak of that here.) I haven’t looked but if CD’s of U.S. artists are less here than in the States, then I will likely try to get a few of those. I have made some MP3s of some of the music that Teresa and Celso have but I do like to have the actual music in hand.
I said in the last journal that Teresa and Celso have a farm and that we were going to go to it AGES ago, but every time we were going to go, someone felt ill, or it was pouring down rain. We finally got to go last week and it was GREAT! Horses and sheep and peacocks and ducks, they are even going to start growing some grapes to make a house wine. Then, a major portion of their property is hilly forest land. The far border is edged by a little stream. Celso wanted me to see it, so we (Celso, me, and some relatives who were visiting from Cordoba Tomas and Ilmice a bratty little 5 year-old) took a bumpy car ride and then a long walk to get there. Completely gorgeous, it blew me away and I only had a half-roll of film. As we were walking through the forest a helicopter flew overhead about 7 times and it registered that it was the gendarmeries looking for contrabandists (there camp is on that infamous Rio Paraná that I spoke of earlier, the border between Paraguay and Argentina). Ilmice and I were a trifle bored by the snail-like pace of Celso and Tomas as they talked about every tree and shrub in the forest and we started walking ahead of them (with Ilmice making rhymes like “they are slow like pigs, slow like snails” (Ellos son lerdos como cerdos, ellos con lerdos como caracoles) when up ahead I saw 4 men in green with HUGE machine guns, holy HANNAH. Well no big deal, they were just walking down a path on private property for some sort of casual lunch stroll, right? Riiiiiiiiiiight. About ten minutes earlier I had shoved my camera in my jeans pocket, with the straps hanging down and covered it with my sweater. I am sure that didn’t look at ALL suspicious, to men with guns.
As we came even with them, I said, “Hello, good day, how are you?” I guess they took this to mean that I knew Spanish, and the main guy replied, “blah blah blah blah blah (too fast for me to understand)” then, “What are you up to?” At this point I basically lost all ability to speak and simply pointed down the hill towards Celso. Well it turns out that from the helicopter they saw a car all lonely on the edge of forest, near the border, and they suspected smuggling. Luckily, Celso had his ID on him and he took them to his car and they inspected it to make sure we didn’t have anything illegal and then they left. I have to say Celso handled the whole thing with a lot of savour faire (how the heck do you spell that?). As we drove back to the main part of the farm, Tomas and Celso had a good laugh at my expense and I still get the request to tell the story about the gendarmeries and much laughter is had by all. It isn’t my fault I am not used to seeing men with BIG guns just strolling around like it is nothing!
A few days ago, I had an experience that I was hoping to avoid. I hadn't been feeling well the whole day, I had a terrible headache and I was feeling really frustrated with the language and how well (or not well, that is) I was doing. I made the mistake of telling Celso that I had a bad headache and since he is a medical doctor he started asking me all sorts of questions. Half of them I had to ask him to repeat and some I just decided to agree on to make it easier. Celso decided that I had a migraine (which I don't really think I had, it was just a headache, I wasn't disabled or anything) and he was going to give me something to make it go away! ACK! I don't think one should take medicine for things one doesn't have. So I kind of avoided it, and it was time for dinner anyway. We started a conversation about this boy named Ariel, the son of the niece who was visiting from Cordoba. Except that I thought his name was Alejandro, after the father. So I kept asking who this Ariel was. As they explained it to me, I realized my former mistake. No biggie, but Celso kept talking about, and asking me of I understood and I said I did, because I DID understand. Finally he said, "No, you don't understand." It was just the last straw, I started crying while I was trying to explain why I thought this boy was named Alejandro, not Ariel, In English it would have taken about 15 seconds to explain, but conversation took what seemed an eternity. Come to think of it, if it was in English I wouldn't have made the mistake, at all. So I had to leave the table to get myself together. I was just damn tired and damn defensive and I wanted to go to bed and wake up with people who spoke English. I was starting to wonder if this wasn't just a big mistake.
Since I wasn't at my own home and Kevin wasn't there, I didn't have the luxury of having a big fit, and then apologizing later, so I tried to hold it together as much as possible. Boy was that one silent dinner! oops! BUT, now that I have seen a low point, I know I can get through this, and I AM improving. We went to a folkloric event yesterday and as usual beforehand and in between bands some guy comes on the stage and talks about the band coming up FOREVER, well I was able to understand it this time! And, when I would turn away to talk to Cecilia or Teresa, I could tune back in when I wanted and still know what was going on. I do get homesick though, especially at night when I go to bed and can't sleep, but this too, passes AND I have a phone card and a laptop and more and more these people are my family, too. I am going to miss them SO much when I go home. I already know that I want to come back here, and not in some distant year, but soon.
Another thing I said in a past journal entry is that this trip would certainly toughen my stomach up, but I am not finding that to be true. Former roommates can testify that I don’t even have to see, or smell something gross to get dry heaves, just the IDEA of something gross is sufficient. I know it is 95% mental, and I really really WANT to not have this problem. Amazingly enough, just knowing the problem exists isn’t enough of a cure. An autobiography of my life should be titled, “Throwing Up In Every Country In The World.”
July 04, 2002
04 Julio 2002
It also means that anyone I meet asks me about the United States and how the job market is, and what kind of money do we make and they wonder how difficult the language is to learn. I can’t even begin to tell them about the money that we make in the U.S.A. because the numbers would sound so gross in comparison to what people make here. Yet, they don’t understand that everything in the U.S.A. also costs proportionately more and that most families live paycheck to paycheck.
Most surprisingly, I find that people here in South America have great respect for the United States (or if they don’t, they aren’t telling me). It makes me wonder, because I know some of the things that the United States has done to Latin America, in the name of our democracy, and I am not proud.
Sometimes I wonder if being a citizen of the United States means that our most important job is to complain. Then I talk to the people here, and they have almost no hope for their future and it makes me wonder if this is a quintessential difference between “Us” and “Them.” Even when things aren’t going as we hope, we say, “Well, it is just a cycle, we’ll be on the upswing soon, just ride it out.”
Argentina was riding the high wave of a good economy not very long ago and the signs of it are still there, almost every home has a computer, a car, decent clothes, cable television. Yet, if the computer breaks, there isn’t any money to replace it. There isn’t even enough money to fix it, even if you have a friend who is good with computers, because parts are expensive. Printer cartridges are ridiculously overpriced and so everyone here prays their printer won’t run out of ink.
When I tell people that before coming here I had two jobs, they get wide eyed in wonder, “Wow you are SO lucky to have 2 jobs.” I try to explain that both of those jobs, didn’t even equal one real full-time job. If I had to support a family on my wages, it wouldn’t be possible. Just say the word “Microsoft” and it is as if a deity has entered the room, all problems are over. In the end, we have a lot more to be thankful for and a lot less to complain about (please don’t remind me about the poor grammar of ending a sentence in that way). So Happy Fourth of July, how lucky we are to live in a place where a big problem is where to find the “best” cup of coffee in the world.
Posadas, Argentina is up in the top north-east corner of Argentina, close to both Brazil and Paraguay. Between these countries there is a spectacular waterfall called Iguazu Falls, and we are going up to visit it in late July. It is a decent sized city, about 200,000 people live here. Right now it is winter and that means it is humid and about 70ish during the day and probably 50, or a little less, in the evening. All the dirt around here is loaded with iron and it is VERY red. Because it is an area with a lot of heat, there is also a lot of dust, and there are some roads, outside of the central area that aren’t paved. This contrives to make it look like a rundown, semi-dirty city. However, I have found that not to be true.
Posadas is in a region called “Misiones” because there were Jesuit Missions here, way back when. This is a region very influenced by Italians and the food is spectacular. Ravioli, gnocchi, baguette, blue cheese, pâté and the ever present carne. However, we eat lots of chicken, pork and fish as well. Most of the people here are very well educated, it is the people of indigenous descent that have fewer recourses (how familiar is THAT little phrase?). yet, I find these people to have a lot of ingenuity, selling chipa (a local style of bread), newspapers and window cleaning at every corner and every light.
Still, you could take all that away and I would still say this is one of the most wonderful places I have visited because of the people. Everyone here is SO open and friendly. I love the style of greeting, the double-cheek kiss, because it creates a relationship and also shows feeling. Which basically leaves the handshake in the dust. I live with Teresa and Celso Fia and their19 year-old grandson Matías, just on the edge of the central area. They have a cute little brick house with a small backyard. In this city they have 2 daughters, Cecilia (with her husband Sergio and their 3 daughters, Antonella, Selene, and Tania) and Elisa (with her husband Leo, and their 3 kids Sophia, Nico and Rosario). Many a night we have gone over to one of their houses or they have come here. They are ALL, extremely open and friendly. Every night I wish that I could pack them up with me when I leave, Especially Teresa, she is very special to me, we have discussions about everything at dinner and she is just a sweet, wonderful lady (who is the most amazing cook, ever).
I have started volunteering at an English Language Institute. All the professors there are from Argentina and they LOVE having a native English speaker come in and talk to the kids (and adults) so that they can hear the rhythms and cadence and just basically ask any question they desire. I started on Tuesday and so far I have been back every day! I already have new email addresses and people asking for my home address so they can write when I get back to the States. And the professors!!!! A few of them are also private tutors or also work at other institutes and they all want me to come and visit with their other students! In the evenings it is practically all in English. So I have started reading the online newspapers at www.laopnion.com, www.nacion.com, and www.lanacion.com.ar. Mostly headlines. Apparently, there is a mention of me in the local newspaper today (according to one of the prof’s last night) so I will have to look for that.