kerewin's whine cellar

They Loves Them Some Museums

For dinner we had a similar setup. The Australians refused the small bony fish that they served us. In fact, I had the small bony fish all to myself - I am a lucky bastard I know. Virginie tried a piece of the tail, gave up on it after one bite and offered the rest to me. More luck. Where will it stop?

I remember a dish of small, bony fish that we ordered in Spain. I couldn't tell if you ate them whole, crunch, crunch, crunch, or picked the measly meat off the bones and they were a tad too fishy for me. The Hub got to eat the charming things.

In other news, I completed week two of my half-marathon walk training. Yay me! and yay for the lovely iPod that I got for Christmas. Maybe someday I could be the Jared (of Subway fame) for iPods. AHhHAHahahAHAHhahahahaha, ahem. Even more exciting was the box of extremely old Fortune magazines we found in the backroom while cleaning it out for the upcoming birthday party. Twelve magazines dating from 1935-40. Since we loves us some eBay, once I get off my lazy duff and post them, I will provide a link. (Can I kill a line more thoroughly???????)

**postscript - there aren't any comments because they broken and the link to the About Me, well that doesn't work right now either, because we haven't set up the used iMac I bought for a replacement server, yet. That pretty much means my personal website that is run off that server isn't up, either. If I sound even remotely techy that would only be due to the good ole Hub. When it comes to computers I am COMPLETELY gaytarded.

The Open Road

Our good friends, who were recently married in France just left for an almost year-long trip around the world. Their first stop, Vietnam. Considering Paul is something like 6'4" tall, he tends to garner a lot of attention.

They have their own travelogue,. All I can say is that I am extremely jealous. They get to travel, go to places I've never been, AND they are funnier in type. Bastards!

Good luck, friends! I can't wait to hear more of your trip!

*side note - because she is from France (even though she has lived in the states for the last 10 years) they had a lot of issues with INS allowing them to go on this trip and still be able to return to the states afterwards. This made them postpone their trip about 3 months, which in turn kept them from being in Indonesia over Christmas, where they were going to do a lot of Scuba diving. Probably one of the first times that government red tape was an extremely fortunate occurence.

un café, si vous plait

[the above picture is from the wedding we went to in France, the CUTEST little girl, she was completely hyperactive, but those glasses made her look completely innocent of any wrongdoing]

So when you are just about to go to France and people ask if you speak any French and you tell them you speak about 10 words of French, but that you are fluent in Spanish and then they tell you that French is so close to Spanish that you won't have any trouble at all................those people are big, fat liars.

if it isn't one thing......

I have this list of things to do before tomorrow at 8am: Finish laundry, pack, create a fabulous post with all the right html (such as lists), good graphics and a funny punch line, call old friends, write great letters, make a list of addresses of friends to send postcards to............there are a few more things I could think of as well.

Too bad making sure I get out of this house by 8am tomorrow so that we can fly to France is the most important of those things.

So I will be back in two weeks. I am sure the internet world is on its collective knees.

Things To Do In Seattle When You Are Dead

Several months ago we went to a favorite pub that is always crowded. There are signs about sharing tables, and these guys from Chicago asked us to sit and share with them. We got along with them and so they asked us good places to go and see in Seattle and we made this totally awesome list for them.

The next morning we were all like, "dude, what was on that list?" We sure wish we made ourselves a copy. In the months since then we speculate as to what weput on that list. Since a good friend is coming to visit, we were trying a little harder tonight.

This is what we came up with:

Troll (I refuse to post a link to this, knowing Vajrabelle is coming to visit, it has to be a surprise)
• Lenin


• Needle


• Carey Park (sunset is nice)


• View Ridge Park (sunset is WAYYYYYYY nicer)


• Waverly Beach (site of our 2nd date)


• Alki Beach


• Shorty's


• Capital Hill, in general


• Snoqualmie Falls


• Midnight Movie


• Jet City Improv


• Union Bay Café????


• Mount Rainier


• Mount St Helens????


• Leavenworth


• Olympic Peninsula/Port Townsend


• E.M.P.


• New Library


• See a show?


• See a movie?

Any other suggestions?

M.P.Qs. #12, 11, 9

Number 12

1. What's your favorite country to visit?
• England, pretty much. It is my own, private Idaho. I go somewhere else and somehow end up there.
• 2. Where and when was your favorite vacation?


• When we went to Salzburg for our honeymoon in Fall 2001. The city is just beautiful and we had the most wonderful time there. I highly recommend doing the Sound of Music Tour.
• 3. What is your dream vacation?


• Well, right now I am dreaming of Spain, which we are going to in October. However, I have always wanted to go to Australia, but haven't ever gotten around to that part of the world. Someday.
• 4. How do you feel about cruises?


• They aren't really for me. That's the ego-centric American way of travelling to other countries.

• 5. Do you take joy in packing light?


• I take joy in packing right. Considering I was in Argentina for 11 weeks and took a mid-size backpack and a mid-size suitcase, I feel like I did pretty well there. Regardless of what Lilbit says, I think there is a certain joy to checking a bag (for long travel when there are lots of connections). On the other hand, if it is a weekend in cali........dude, walking off the plane with all your stuff is a beautiful thing.

Number 11

1. What is your favorite color?
• 2. What is your favorite thing about your home?


• 3. Things: collect, or throw out?


• 4. What was the first car you ever owned?


• 5. Do you balance your checkbook on a regular basis?

Number

1. What was the first computer system you remember using?
• I don't remember the model number or anything but it was a pretty basic apple, that had a command screen. I could make the cursor draw a house and trees, I could also do one of those annoying loops, the GOTO thing.
• 2. What chore did you have to do as a kid, that you loathed?


• Aside from the dishes, I hated watering the plants, and for some odd reason it was always my duty. I pretty much let them die before I got around to watering them.
• 3. Do you have any OCD traits?


• When I am reading I get this urge to clip my fingernails, and my mind won't let it rest until I do.
• 4. Since this is the reason that we are friends, how did you find Freeverse?


• I had some online friends who played a lot of cribbage on their PCs and they kept urging me to learn. So one day I was looking through the disc that comes with the MacAddict magazine and there was a cribbage version for the Mac. It even had a tutor and rules, I was addicted.

• 5. Online dating, pro or con?


• I haven't really delved into it, so it is rather hard for me to say. I think everyone should be allowed to do it if they want, but I don't think it is really for me.

Wake up, para culiar

Ahhhh...Puerto Vallarta, una cuidad que es llena de los gringos. Es posible que soy una Mexicana.
Puerto Vallarta, a city full of Whiteys. It is possible that I am a Mexican. Sounds better in Spanish, doesn't it?

I could continue on in a bi-lingual fashion,but first, that’s rather snotty, don’t you think? Secondly, I can’t remember the Spanish word for “to bargain.”

Our week in Mexico was very nice, but kind of surreal. We were in a foreign country but staying with the In-laws, who own a condo there, so half our time was spent doing day-to-day things and not holiday things. Driving here or there to look at furniture for the condo, or groceries, or beer. Oh, beer. God, I love Mexico.

We spent a little time each day at the pool, later in the afternoon, so as to minimize sunburn possibilities. Since we were staying in Nuevo Vallarta, rather than El Centro, or Viejo, we were outside of the general hubbub. But, we learned rather easily, how to take a bus into town, and conversely out of town. For instance our daytrip (oh, now I have the Beatles stuck in my head) to Sayulita.

As much as I liked Sayulita, it was a little too American-ized (by which I mean, United States-ized, but it doesn’t read as pretty) for my taste. When you eat breakfast at Rollie’s which is full of US tourists, and only has an English menu, and then go see some of the outdoor jewelry, half of which is sold by US hippies, you start to be a little weary. At least, I do. Especially as after the last vacation we had, I said to the Hub, “I want to go somewhere where they speak SPANISH!”

The worst, worst, WORST ever part about Sayulita is that they have a restaurant called, “The Spaghetti Factory” which I, at first, found amusing, since that was my first ever restaurant job. We even took a picture of me and the sign. Later, from one of the wizened condo residents it turns out that this is a couple who started a Spaghetti Factory in Couer d’Alene, Idaho, which mached EXACTLY the Old Spaghetti Factory menu and décor. Not surprisingly, they got sued, so they moved the whole thing lock, stock, and barrel to MEXICO???? Now you can enjoy crappy faux-Italian food from the States even in Nayurit, Mexico. Rat fucking bastards. The wizened couple who told us this story thought it was GREAT! Do I have to go to Spain to get away from these assholes?

Speaking of assholes, right in Puerto Vallarta proper there is a Hooter’s and an Outback Steakhouse, both of which I loathe and I refuse to find links for you. You want to see their sites? Google, baby.

Now, vacation sex…..it should be GREAT, right? Then don’t vacation with your ILs Since we stay up later than them, we snuck in a few nice night time episodes. But once when we snuck up early from the pool and started fooling around, the ILs came up about 10 minutes after we did, and I just couldn’t work up to finishing (and I was REALLY close, dammit!). Surprisingly, since it has featured in many a role-playing event, and I have mocked the Hub mercilessly about his rather Victorian view of having sex at the house of the ILs, I couldn’t really shove it in their face. I was happy to have sex if we weren’t going to get caught, but not while they were awake in the other room. Even MORE surprisingly, the Hub was TOTALLY up for it. He then mocked me mercilessly the rest of the trip. According to him culiar is the verb he knows for “to have sex” and he spent a good portion of our trip saying to me under his breath, “K, wake up para culiar!”

So one night in particular, I went to bed early, because nerd boy wanted to watch the new Battlestar Gallactica mini-series that was showing on some cable nerd channel. The Hub was supposed to wake me up para culiar, when he came to bed, but he didn’t. So the next morning, I woke up, he was all asleep and the condo seemed quiet. So I went over and woke him up, “para culiar” a girl has her needs after all. The Hub was willing, I was willing, we were getting into it. As the man said about it later, “I was just getting ready to take it home!”

But then, the madre IL knocked on the door and before we could even confer as to what to say, she opened the door! Holy shit! It was right out of my worst ever High School nightmare (not that I was having sex in HS, trust me I wasn’t). Luckily for the Kevo, we were all missionary and shit, so his mom’s view of him was blocked. But she SAW ME, all reclined. Jesus, just what I need, my madre IL to know what my boobs look like without their usual clothing. One thing I don't regret, she was on the wrong side to see my lizard tattoo that is on my rib cage. Anyway, she shut the door rather abruptly, and I ended our fesitivities. Then we sat there and had the giggled for a good five minutes before I got up and took a shower. As the Hub said, “At least we are married.”

Then, when I came out to get some coffee, I mumbled a “Mornin’” certainly all red-cheeked, and then she APOLOGIZED to me. I was hoping more for the, “let’s all ignore what just happened” approach. Later on the Hub told me that he was hoping to finish afterwards. Uh huh…..whatevah.

So, while I was embarrassed at the time, I clearly think it is a fabulous to be oft-repeated to friends, kind of story. While the Hub thinks it is funny, he already thinks that I tell our friends too much personal info about us, and has strictly forced me to promise not to tell anyone we know. Thank god for the internet!

Some pictures for your enjoyment:
Album 1
Album 2

One last embarrassing sidenote: On our last full day in P.V. as all the United Stateseans call it, we went into El Centro. Walked the beach,bought momentos, stopped at a bar and had “un cubeto de cerveza,por favor” and when we left, I had a mark on my ass. Someone, dear god, peed on my seat. I smelled of urine the whole way home. Hallelujah for the condo having a washer and a dryer.

I am having a little trouble deciding which is more humiliating, the urine or the sex-catching.

Vamos a Mexico

07 Septiembre 2002

I have just become one of those annoying people on the flight that whips out their laptop during the journey, I love it! So just a few notes before I forget everything to write about:

Together in Posadas, Jesuit ruins, Horacio Quiroga, campo, rocks…….

Party, last day shopping gifts for everyone from Teresa, getting up early, alarm clock, POR FIN in Buenos Aires, sad that all we did on the first day was shop at a mall and sleep, then go out to eat.

Mar Del Plata, Gaston, Jorgelina, Cici, sweater, long car ride, singing, the hotel, parents of Jorgelina, Chinese food, bath, then the beach, the ocean, the sea lions, water, cold, lunch with Gaston’s parents, another long car ride, hotel, locked out, checking out, room service.

Mendoza, flight, hotel, plazas, weather, first night out, walking, city tour, then dinner at that little divey thing on the walkway, early morning altas montañas, brits, snow, sunburn, incan bridge, easternmost point in Argentina, tired, crash, then our lazy wine event, taxi, 12 bottles, san felipe, Norton, rain, nice dinner at facundo, the man who owns the hotel, coffee in the café downstairs, tostadas, crack of dawn flight. Breaking Heather’s luggage.

Buenos Aires again, full day, meet Jorgelina and leave our luggage with her, met her coworkers, taxi drivers, luggage, the LA BOCA, pictures, shopping, abasto, glasses, leather purse, café, trying to get money, recoleta, cemetery, eva peron, the brits again, cats, restaurant, Leonardo the txi driver and out whirwind tour of Buenos Aires, la boca again, blowing all of our money in about 3 seconds flat, chess set, then back to Jorgelina’s work, taxi driver from that morning is there, heavy bags, airport, moving stuff around, Pablo, wine, overloaded bags, long flight, not much sleep. My Big Fat Greek Wedding, About a Boy, water on the lap, then Miami Chicago, Chicago Seattle, Divine secrets of the yaya sisterhood.

We are some 3 hours away from home and I have been gone just over 11 weeks, why does everything feel so normal? Will I feel any sort of culture shock? Very happy and surprised to be fluent but when will I get to use my language skills, am I really going to find a job using Spanish? What will it be like to sleep with another person after 11 weeks. Pretty much every bed I slept in for the entire trip was a twin so how will that go? I can’t wait to see Kevin, I want to open my bags and show him everything the second we get off. I have to remember to call Teresa when we get home, then a shower then a good long nap.

In some ways these 11 weeks have been a separate life with my other life continuing on that other continent, maybe it was some way of coping with loneliness, or a way of going on with your life, I have always thought, though, that it would be great to have 2 or 3 lives, you could live in different cities, have different jobs, live life in all the different directions that you want.

So now maybe we have a new Karri, or whatever, I am a little afraid of when people tell me that,”I will be whole new person, my whole outlook is going to change.” What if it doesn’t? I don’t feel so different from my old self right now……..

I wonder how long it will take before we have our first bickering, our first fight. I can’t believe that our first anniversary is coming up so soon, and I also get a laugh when I tell people we have been married such a short time yet spent the summer apart.

What will come of me? I guess it is time to find out.

26 Agosto 2002

Today is the day that my sister gets here and I am very excited. Teresa and I just got back from shopping only to find that she had called while we were gone. I hope she will call back. However it is good to know that she is in Buenos Aires and everything is ok. It also happens to be the week that Cecilia and Sergio are going on vacation so their daughters will be staying here, as well. This is going to be one full house! My room has 4 twin beds in it and last night the girls and I shared the room. They saw my curling iron and asked if they could use it. Absolutely! Then they asked me how to use it. So I demonstrated, plug this in, push this button, wait for the blinking light……… No, no, no, they didn’t know how to use it in their HAIR! Imagine! I think I might leave it here for them.

My last weekend with Teresa was amazing, after about 6 weeks of talking about it, we finally got up to Iguazu Falls. Teresa and I drove up, leaving Celso and Matias on their own for the weekend. It took about 4 hours to get there, somehow I expected it to be a lot more, so it was a nice surprise. First, we drove up to Tres Fronteras, an area where rivers meet and you can see Paraguay and Brazil while standing in Argentina. Then we took a quick driving trip through Iguazu, a dusty, tourist town. Finally, we headed to Iguazu Falls, it was 4pm when we got there and they were closing up, so we went in and signed up for the tour of the falls by full moon. We deliberately planned this trip to coincide with the full moon as Teresa had heard that it was amazing.

Because it was just us ladies, solo, we made jokes the whole trip about being “Las Chicas Superpoderosas” which is what they call the Powerpuff Girls here and it means, “the superpowerful girls.” Which in a way was fitting. Every time we passed a car on the road we hooted and hollered and generally had a great time driving.

At Tres Fronteras there was a stand of artesanial crafts and I found a rain stick for 20 pesos. I have always wanted one of these!!!! It is a piece of hollow wood (tree branch?) that when dried out has all these little ??? seeds, or residue (Kevin heard it was dead cockroaches but I am disinclined to believe that story) and when you tip the stick downwards all the little things inside drop down to the bottom, making a noise like rain.

After that we went to check into our hotel, only to find that they hadn’t received our reservations that we made via the web! So we went on down the road, each hotel had one room for Friday night, but nothing for Saturday. So we settled on the last hotel we went to, “Latino” and it was a basic cheap hotel, shower, toilet, two twin beds and a tv. But for 60 pesos a night (less than $20) it was just fine. It also turned out that dinner and breakfast were included. We both took a quick siesta and then did a little window shopping. After a nice dinner at the hotel, we still had 30 minutes to kill before we drove back to the falls. So we went up to the room, I stepped out on the little balcony and the full moon was out, there were stars everywhere. So we just took our chairs out to the patio and sat and watched the full moon, with very little talking. It was a really nice moment, a good sign for the rest of the weekend. For the rest of the trip, every time we drove past all the hotels that didn’t have room for us, we thumbed our noses at them, in true Chicas Super Poderosas form.

We signed up for the later tour, 10p, and got there about 9:45, I thought it was going to be about 30 people, with a tour guide. There were TONS of people, probably more than 200! As for guides, they put us all on these 2 passenger trains (something akin to a train that you might find at Disney but maybe a little more rustic) and left us to our own devices. The falls are actually a good 30 minute train ride from the entrance so I was glad we weren’t on foot. As soon as we got off the train we all started the walk to “La garganta del diablo” (Devil’s Throat). This is what is considered to be the most spectacular view of the falls, it is an area where all this water meets before plunging down into the abyss. To get there you have to walk 1,000 meters on metal ramps that they have built out to the falls (i.e. on top of the water), all of this in the light of the moon. It was breathtakingly beautiful. To the side of the metal ramps you could see the remains of the old wooden ramps they used to use. Instead of the train they used to put you on a boat and you drove to the ladder of the wooden ramp. I have to say the old ramp looked pretty darn scary!!! I was glad we had the train and the metal, hooray for modern technology!

I did a little research about the falls after the trip, a waterfall is a place where, well, water falls. If there are several waterfalls all conjoined (I think there is a certain amount that they need to be but I don’t know what) then they are called “cataracts.” They only gave 3 examples of what cataracts are, Angel Falls (the world’s largest), Niagara and Iguazu. I haven’t ever been to Niagara so I can’t really compare but what I saw blew me away. The moon was so bright that everything was lit up, it was like walking in silver. La garganta del Diablo is gigantic and there is so much water rushing through there, and it falls for so long, I just don’t have the words to describe how thrilling and amazing I felt to get to see such a sight. It was so romantic and everyone had someone that they were kissing, it made me miss Kevin. I made a promise that we would return there, together, maybe for an anniversary and see Iguazu by moonlight. There were several different views, each with their own special beauty, so in all I think we must have been out there for an hour. A lot of people wore rain gear so I was a little concerned about my jeans and t-shirt but there wasn’t any wind and I didn’t get the slightest bit wet.

There were, however, too many people, and because we all headed out there at the same time, everyone was jockeying for space. So as we walked back to the train Teresa and I decided that we would come back first thing the next morning and see the falls in the daylight, without all the people. There was a little store near the train and they were giving out juice or this drink called caipireña that had caña (liquor de cane), lime juice, sugar and ice, whew it was strong and slightly bitter from the peel of the lime, but good, the perfect nightcap. It was just a small sample, so we slept like angels but didn’t feel horrid the next day. I had to ask Celso how to spell that drink and he also told me that it is a very typical Brazilian drink. It is similar to the Cuban drink Mosquito (yeah yeah yeah the restaurants in the USA call it Mojito) but that is made with rum and it also has mint. A drink made famous to the world by Ernest Hemingway.

We didn’t get back to the hotel until almost 1 am and we set the wake up call for 645a OUCH! I am just not a big fan of less than 8 hours of sleep. Still the day dawned hot and early and we got up and got a move on. Iguazu is much farther north in Misiones (and it is in the malaria warning area) so it is in a more tropical zone. Therefore, I covered myself adequately with “OFF” and then a liberal dose of 45 sunscreen. It was going to be a scorcher, so I wore shorts, a short-sleeved shirt and sandals. I thought the night before that I had seen one of the most beautiful views of the world, until I saw it in the morning by daylight. With the sun, you could see everything, all of the water, how far it fell, all of the spray that comes back up, it was AMAZING. Because it was morning and the spray was so strong there were thousands of little birds flying in and out of the spray. Iguazu Falls are immense, and I ended up taking more than a roll of photos in this one area alone.

I said once before that the dirt here is full of iron and therefore very red. Well, the water after rainfalls is also extremely red. I have seen several postcards of the falls with red/brown water. It looks so much like polluted water it is hard to tell yourself that it really is just the dirt!!!! Luckily, there hadn’t been any real rain for a week or so and the water was perfectly green and clear. Because there was way more wind that morning we got soaked by the spray, I had to keep wiping the lens of my camera. Still it was going to be a hot day and I was glad of the water.

There were two other hikes, so we headed back and started in on those. These were views of the rest of the cataratas (cataracts) and there are TONS of them. The hikes weren’t difficult but they were long (another 1,100 meters for each one) and one of the hikes had a lot of stairs. After about 5 hours of breath-taking beauty and 3 rolls of film later, we were exhausted! It was possible to take a boat out close to the falls and get completely soaking wet, but because it would have been bad for the camera and I didn’t think it would be that much more amazing, we didn’t do it.

We left the park around 1 pm, stopping at one of the tourist shops along the way so I could buy an overpriced fishing hat that said “Iguazu.” You should have seen the look on Teresa’s face when the lady at the shop told us that it was 35 pesos! She whispered to me that there were other shops in the park if I wanted to go look for a better price. I am pretty sure they are all owned by the same outfit so I happily bought the hat where we found it, but I could tell that Teresa didn’t exactly approve. Probably a good thing that I didn’t buy one of the sleeveless, polar fleece zip-ups for 55 pesos. It was too warm that day to even contemplate something that hot.

Well even with sunscreen I managed to burn myself to a nice little crispy shade of red (you can see the area on my arm where I missed with the cream). I guess all that water at la garganta del Diablo didn’t help after all! Still I hate to imagine what I would have looked like without it. For Winter, I have to say that I am not feeling the lack of sun, or heat. For the last week it has been around 90 every day. The car was a little fire all its own when we got to it, so we opened up the doors and let it cool off a little. Then we headed home. Teresa doesn’t like to drive in the dark so we only stopped twice, once for gas and once for lunch. We got home by 6:15 pm, what a DAY, I was whipped.

Celso thought we were going to be gone until Sunday, so he was very surprised to see us. When I told him about our adventures he was pissed that we didn’t stay and extra day and try to find a hotel. Also, on the way there is a spot that has a mine with a lot of natural stones (llike amethyst for example) Teresa suggested that we stop and see it, if I wanted. Well I am not exactly the biggest fan of mines, and it was after out day long trek at the cataratas and I just wanted to go home. You should have seen the expression on Celso’s face when I told him we didn’t go in because I didn’t want to. He threatened to put me on a bus the next day back to this place. I guess he thought that maybe for my last real day with the family that I was wasting it. Still it kind of ticked me off. I had to go to my room and cool down for a bit. Celso was also in a pissy mood. At dinner Teresa and I had to joke and make fun of him for an hour before he finally got in a good mood. Teresa thanked me for my help in this area and I told her it was a gift.

However, my special gift really lies in saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, so after I said that we laughed and laughed. The night before we left for Iguazu, I had a class at the Institute with Juki the director. She had a private class with 2 ladies who work at Mazza. Mazza is the only place in town where you can exchange traveller’s checks, you can also go there and book flights and tours, and it is also, in part, a bank. Exchanging money has always been the one sore spot with me here because it is difficult. You have to stand in this one special line, where only one man works, it takes ages for each transaction, so even if there are only two people ahead of you, it will be at least 30 minutes until you get helped. When I first got here, I was a little intimidated by the language so that was also another factor. Well, more or less, the man who always helped me was this stern character in his 40s, grey speckled hair, very matter-of-fact, to tell the truth he scared the crap out of me. But each time I went, it got a little better and in fact the last time I was there he even remembered my name before seeing my passport.

So since these ladies worked there, I tried to tell them about this guy, and tell the story of how at first I thought he didn’t like me, how he scared me a little, and I hadn’t gotten to the part of where everything worked out when one of the ladies said, “but that’s my BROTHER!!!!!!” HA! Yup, she is the wife of one of the owner’s of Mazza and that is her brother. This is my real gift, and I get to use it so often. I am getting a little tired of the taste of my own foot, maybe I should pass this gift on.

So, Heather gets here tonight, I already have everyone calling her “Margarita” (the name her Spanish speaking friends gave her) as the H is not pronounced in Spanish and her name is difficult for people to pronounce. In fact my brother also has a hard-to-pronounce name in Spanish, what WHERE my parents thinking???? I can’t wait to show her the town, the costanera (something like greenlake but along a river) and have her meet all my family here. I wonder how the language thing is going to work out? Then we are off to Mar Del Plata with Heather’s friends, then Mendoza!!! I can’t believe it but I have less than 2 weeks until I am home and sleeping in my own bed! I think I will end up keeping a hand on Kevin’s shoulder for about 5 days straight. I plan on leaving my computer in Buenos Aires with Heather’s friends while we are in Mendoza so this is likely one of the last times I will be sending out a journal. I am going to send one last one after I get back.

I feel so lucky and privileged to have taken this trip. There have been many times in the last weeks where I thought my speaking had improved to the maximum amount that it was going to. For instance, I thought, “well I am good now, but I probably won’t be able to understand what teenagers say (boy teens talk FAST).” Then the next day at lunch with Sergio, Cecilia and their 3 daughter’s I understand all the words that are being said (even if I don’t understand all the meanings). I know my own speaking has improved and I am definitely more grateful for some of the things that I once took for granted in the United States. I certainly have even more respect for the culture and friendliness of South America. Truly, you cannot guess a culture based on television, news and fictional stories. These people have a broader culture that most “Americans” and their families are a lot more closely knit. I haven’t ever lacked for good food, hot water, fun things to do and beautiful things to see. A whole new world is open to me because I feel comfortable and even eager to explore South America. How amazing that to most people in the United States, Spanish means Spain. Our Euro-bias doesn’t wear well.

I hate when the US news has something terrible to say about South America because then I get all sort of emails and warning about the possible danger I might be in, when it simply isn’t true. I haven’t once felt like I was in any more danger than I would be in Seattle. I try to remind myself of how Seattle was presented to the world during the WTO riots. Everyone thought Seattle was practically burning down, yet 3 blocks from the demonstrations, life when on peacefully, I even went to work. Remember, it is the job of news stations to get your attention, to SELL what they have to say. Therefore, if they find a story that is sensational, say about a truck of cows that dumped over and a riot of people came with knives to get food, they are going to sell it for all they’ve got. Because it fits the bias that we have about South Americans being uneducated savages. I guess that would also mean that Seattle is full of violent hoodlums and we should all move away. One small story does not a complete picture make.

When the truck dumped over and there was a practical riot over dead cows, the people here felt the same as the people in the United States felt, what a shame, how awful. Shameful, awful things happen everywhere in the world everyday, including in the States. However, beautiful, wonderful things happen too. Maybe the trick is to try and remain open to the beauty and skeptical of the sad, horrible things. I would prefer to think that people ARE more good than bad. I would even say that this trip bears this out. I have met the most amazing and wonderful people here. Everyone is so open and friendly. The people I live with are smart and funny, they are the same as “us”, there isn’t a “them.” Language doesn’t separate us, “We are better than they are,” is what is keeping us from getting along. Too bad it just isn’t true.

13 Agosto 2002

Wow, less than a month left in this trip, I can’t believe the time has gone by so fast! In less than 2 weeks my sister will be here and then we will be off! Originally we were going to spend a few days in Buenos Aires and then a few days in Santiago, Chile. The whole Graciela experience notwithstanding, there were definitely some things I wanted to see there. Also, Teresa and Celso were sad that they weren’t going to get to meet my sister. Heather and I talked, and she decided she would come up to Posadas for a couple of days, meet the family and take a day trip to the Jesuit ruins. Celso also wants to show her the farm, if the weather permits.

So I went to the office for Aerolineas Argentina so see about getting tickets for Santiago (having conferred for many days via email and MSN Messenger). Ok, ok no problem getting to Santiago. Unfortunately, unless we only wanted to spend a day and a half there, or if we wanted to spend a week and a half (and thereby miss my flight back the States) Santiago was out. I guess we picked some popular week to leave Chile.

The lady at the airline office was really nice, so I asked her where she suggested instead, for instance Montevideo, Uruguay. (I am still holding a grudge against Paraguay so that is totally out.) She said that if we were absolutely form on going out of the country that was fine, but she thought that Mendoza, Argentina was much nicer and a lot prettier. Then she told me the deal clincher…………Mendoza is the premier wine region of Argentina, with a lot of wineries in close proximity. Also, as it turns out the tickets are WAY cheaper to Mendoza, too. I can’t wait!

So now the plans are as follows, Heather arrives the 26th of August, we stay in Posadas until the morning of the 30th, when we fly to Buenos Aires. Hopefully that night we will hook up with the people that I met in Cordoba, we have been exchanging emails, so I think it will work. Then, Heather has friends in Buenos Aires and we are going with them for the weekend to Mar del Plata, a resort beach a little South of Buenos Aires. It is winter here after all so we aren’t going for tanning, but I hear it is fun and pretty, so it should be fun. Plus it is always so much more rewarding to hang with the locals, so to speak.

The following Monday afternoon, the 2nd of September, we fly to Mendoza. Back to Buenos Aires on Friday the crack of dawn, the 6th of September. We fly back to the States that night. Heather and I have the same flight back so I will have someone to talk to on the plane! So we have various days in Buenos Aires, but no length of time. Since there is a lot of unrest in that area, that is probably best. Still, the day I was there, I saw nothing horrible, encountered no problems and life seemed business as usual. So, we will have caution, but we won’t be afraid. We just won’t carry all of our valuables along with us wherever we go.

I had a cold last week that pretty much kept me in bed for a few days (it was SO boring!) but I recovered in time for a great weekend. This last weekend was the reunion of Kevin’s family, so I was feeling a little homesick. I thought Kevin was going to call me on Saturday, so I could talk to some of the people there. However, Friday night the phone rings and lo and behold! It was Kevin, I was so excited and so happy I just started crying! Everyone kept saying, “Honey are you ok? Are you SURE?” It was really wonderful to talk to everyone and it was such a surprise, like an unexpected gift. I promise next year there is no way I am going to miss the reunion!

Well, right after that, Celso came home from work with an invitation to a wine event that night, with Chandon wines! (Chandon, a French wine company best known for their champagne owns a lot of wineries here in Argentina, and you can buy Argentinean Chandon sparkling wine for 15 pesos – less than $5.) Both of the Fia’s are doctors and this even was sponsored by a pharmaceutical company, the whole place was filled with doctors! So we got dressed up and went. It turned out to be a discussion about the properties of wine, where it is grown, why it is a good region, and then following a wine tasting with one of the enologists of Chandon. Right there that man was doing my job! I think he probably earns more money since he was traveling and stuff, but STILL.

Teresa and Celso never miss a chance to help me in my stay, so since this guy , Pablo Cuneo, worked for Chandon in Mendoza, and I am going to Mendoza……..well, you do the math. After the initial talk, before the wine tasting, they made me sit there and wait to talk to the guy and tell him I was going to Mendoza. They pretty much made him promise to give me his card so when I was in the area I could get a more personal tour. Then during the wine tasting he came over and talked to us for a little bit. Poor guy, he never had a chance. Since it was a discussion of the wine basics, it wasn’t really anything I had to pay attention to, so it was nice to not have to pay 125% of attention. It was a really fun night and then Celso ended up winning a bottle of sparkling wine (not Chandon, but one of their labels). As we were leaving, Pablo was talking to some of the people, and I was willing to just cut him a little slack and not bother him anymore. Oh noooooo, the organizer of the event had heard from Celso that I this poor man was going to give me his card, so he went and interrupted him, I was SO embarrassed! Still, now I have a business card, and a personal cell number for when I go to Mendoza. As we left Teresa made jokes about Kevin having to look out. Funny when they were the ones being so pushy! It is probably good to have someone who is my promoter. Because so many times, with the language barrier, it is easier to let things go.

Well it was only midnight, and on a Friday night that is pretty early so, should we continue on? Or??? (this is after spending the last 2 hours eating appetizers and drinking wine) we drove over to the place where we usually watch the Folkloric singers and dancing but it was shut that night. So we ended up going back to the house, opening the bottle of sparkling wine, and talking. It was a really nice night, and I probably didn’t get to bed until at least 2:30. Saturday was a pretty laid back day. We basically spent it getting ready for the birthday party celebration for Celso, which was at the farm the next day. I had told the Fia’s about the annual reunion of the Victors, the bocce tourney, the big dinner, all the pictures…..they LOVED it and decided that they would use Celso’s birthday as a jumping off point for starting their own traditional reunion, there was even bocce! (which they play differently enough that it took me about 20 minutes of playing to understand).
When we got to the farm Sunday morning, the guys immediately started a fire going in this big pit, then the seasoned all this meat (we are talking 2.5 chickens, chorizo, morcilla-blood sausage gross!, beef, pork, sheep, I think every animal group was pretty much represented). Then put all of it on a grill over the fire, after everything had cooked a good amount, they killed the fire down to coals and smoke, covered the meat with newspaper and then let the smoke cook it for about another hour. When we finally ate, I was in HEAVEN, the chicken tasted exactly like the chicken that we used to eat at the Spokane Fair every year. During the whole day I got a chance to get all these family pictures, Teresa, Celso, Cecilia, Sergio, Leo, Elisa and all the kids. I had a discussion with Cecilia and Sergio about the wine talk, the travels I was going to do with my sister. We talked about how fast all the time went and how sad I will be to go. Then Sergio asked me if I would give a talk to his friends about the enjoyment of wine….HELL YEAH! Are you kidding me!?!?!?!??!?!?!?! Another of my favorite things, they told me how much my Spanish had improved, how fluently I was talking.

The middle daughter of Cecilia and Sergio, Selene (the one who met me at the airport and consequently has a slightly larger place in my heart) is going to be 15 this year. In Latin America, 15 is the year that a girl becomes a woman, kind of like the sweet 16, but here there is a HUGE party. The girl gets to wear a dress very similar to a wedding dress, there is a big cake, a salon is rented out, there is food, dancing, a basic all-night festival. Sele is having hers the 2nd of November, and she thought I would still be here for it!!!! I am so sad that I am going to miss it. Then she asked if I could maybe come back for the party, these people are so nice! (If only tickets to South America weren’t SO much money I would have said, “yes” in a heartbeat.) On the other hand, I am not going to stay here until November just to see Sele’s party. I will just be there in spirit.

We didn’t get home until about 9pm and we were all pretty bushed. Their dog, Pepi, had run all over the place all day and I think she was the most tired of everyone. Monday signified the real end of my vacation inside my trip (school had been out for the kids so there wasn’t any volunteering at the Institute, and I went to Cordoba). I had a private Spanish class with Pilar in the morning and then in the evening I went and volunteered at the Institute. I had a class with the director of the Institute, Juki. She is a wonderful lady, and I like her class a lot, this was a group of students I had met before, so they were over some of their shyness. One of the best parts of going to class with Juki is that she really involves me in the teaching.

We talked about the differences of teenagers in the States vs. those here. After we were done, I think they were all glad that they live here! Because, kids here don’t have curfews, on a Saturday night some of the dance places don’t even open until 3am! Another thing I noticed that was really different. When people go out on the weekends, they bring their kids (toddlers, babies, teens…..) they travel together as a family. The kids stay up as late as the parents stay out, they drink Coca-cola. On the weekdays they probably don’t get to bed until midnight. However, here they do have that handy 4 hour rest in the middle of every day, so it works out to the same amount of sleep, I think. I also explained to them about school dances, oh man what a difference!! They don’t have anything like that here. Dances are clubs or discos, your school would never sponsor a dance, no one gets flowers (wrist corsage was a very difficult thing to explain…”they get a bracelet?” “oh flowers?” “And the man, he buys them for the woman???”)

Maybe we have more family problems in the States because children are more of a burden, they keep you from going out, you make them special meals (here, everyone eats the same meal, I have seen these girls chow on polenta, roast, gnocchi, you name it. No one refuses to eat the food set in front of them.). Here, in South America the kids are just along for the ride, they go and do everything their parents do. When we went for that endless walk in the forest, with a 5-year-old there was never any thought of warning this child that it might be a long walk. She was never carried, she did it all herself. It was pretty damn impressive. It makes me wonder if our puritanical roots (and our colder climate) create more problems than they solve. Here, people aren’t so up in arms about what the best behavior for others is, instead they concentrate on themselves and don’t lay too much blame. In fact when something falls to the ground, they don’t say, “I dropped it.” Instead it is always, “It fell.” “It broke.”

So these are my travels up to now, I can’t believe I only have 2 weeks until my sister arrives! I can’t wait!

01 Agosto 2002 part B

Back to the story:

I got to the hotel room expecting to see Teresa and EvilG, but they weren’t there. I was pretty tired from my adventures, so I called Kevin, wrote in my journal and went to bed. The two ladies didn’t arrive until about midnight. Gustavo told me that he would be the tour guide for my trip the next day, too, and while I was happy about that I was a little worried that Graciela would ruin it. My alarm clock decided to schitz out so we all slept past 830, so we were rushing around. Well around 9 we all stumble out the door of the room. Teresa stopped for a second to look through her bag. I had the key so I didn’t lock the door in case she had forgotten something. Graciela says to me, “Carmen, give me the key.” Not in a nice tone, I might add. Teresa is still looking through her bag, so I decided not to understand what she had said. So EvilG says is AGAIN, but louder. No please, no may I, no manners. So I turned to her and said, “I was waiting for Teresa in case she needed anything.” So, Teresa is ready to go, I hand Stinky the key and she just walks off, she didn’t even lock the door! Hello???? Boy am I looking forward to spending a day with her.

So we go down to breakfast, but as soon as I get my coffee, Gustavo is there. I go over to him and tell him the other 2 ladies are on their way. Teresa grabs her stuff, but grumpy lady stays at the table. Turns out that on the city tour the day before, we stopped to see this beautiful church, apparently they have Capuchin Monks (how that is different from capuchin monkeys I have NO idea) at this church and Graciela was ticked off that we didn’t take the time to go see in and see them. She decided to spend the day in Cordoba, seeing these monks and who knows what else. Personally I think she didn’t want to spend the 42 pesos + lunch. All in all, it was perfectly fine with me.

This second tour was a tour of the Sierras and the pueblos around them. First stop, Alta Gracia and then Che Guevara’s house. Teresa had already seen the cathedral at Alta Gracia and I had enough churches the day before so we both went and looked at all the crafts that were for sale in the open-air market. I found this really cool black pottery and bought a little plate and tiny vase. There was this really fabulous 10” tall vase with nice designs, I wanted it soooo bad but I don’t want to buy anything too heavy or too delicate, because I don’t want to be carrying it everywhere later, when I am traveling through Argentina. So I didn’t buy it, but I felt bad about it later. Oh well.

Well the Sierras are stunning. Clear, blue air, dry climate, all the beautiful colors that mountains give. We saw all these great pueblos, a dam (no, Dad, there wasn’t a fish ladder), more artisan stuff, bought some jewelry. Generally had a great time with Teresa. We talked a lot and laughed a lot, I told her about my breakthrough with the language and she is going to help me with vocabulary. At one pueblo, there was this huge group of gigantic hotels (7 in all) that would hold about 600 people, kept grounds, trees cut into all these wonderful shapes. But it was like a ghost village, I guess that one of the hotels is still open, but this showed an Argentina that was big business with tourists, once upon a time. But now, no one. This isn’t recent either, the buildings looked like they hadn’t been inhabited in a decade or more.

As we headed back, we talked a little about EvilG. Apparently the day before, with Teresa she had been a real handful. Insisting on finding a video of something to watch in the hotel instead of catching an earlier bus to the city where Celso’s aunt lives, then making them take the last bus back to Cordoba. Just being willful, and not caring about other people’s feelings. Teresa told me that she snapped at her once and that she felt bad about it. This is a rare thing for a person like Teresa, she is so sweet and generous in her nature, she must have been really pushed to say something. Teresa told me that she was going to spend part of Saturday with her family and I asked to come along, she said, sure.

We also talked about how it was just 2 more days of EvilG (Teresa of course didn’t call her that) and we just needed to be nice and sweet and soon we wouldn’t have to think of her one little bit. We both agreed there would be no fighting. So when we got back to the hotel room, we were both really nice, asking about her day, telling her about our trip. We told her we were going to go get a small meal and did she want to come along. The first thing she said in response to that was, “Who is paying?” PUH-LEASE. This wasn’t a dinner-is-on-me kind of invite. She decided to go along anyway, which was fine. As we walked to find a restaurant, Stinky took Teresa’s arm, and walked close. Then Teresa took my arm so we were all joined, which was nice. Still I got the feeling that Graciela was jealous of me. That she wanted Teresa to do all the things she wanted to do, to hang out with her and leave me to my lonesome. Since this was my vacation, and we came to Cordoba for me, and just invited her along, I don’t know where she came up with this idea, but whatever.

Dinner went reasonably well, then Teresa paid! I thanked her, it was a nice gesture, I know she was just trying to make EvilG happy, and that woman didn’t even say thanks for it! How RUDE. As we walked back, Stinky kinda walked all by herself, I kept slowing down to stay even with her but then she would slow down even more. I finally gave up. When we got to the hotel, I took a shower, while I was in the bathroom, Graciela started a fight with Teresa! She wanted to know why we weren’t involving her in things, why she was always by herself! Excuse me? I was under the impression that we invited her along to everything that we did and she chose not to go with!!!!!

She also wanted to know why Teresa kept going over to her family’s house. Yeah, like you go and visit the city your family lives in and then don’t hang out with them. What she basically told Teresa was that she thought that she and Teresa should go and sleep at the family home and I should be all alone in the hotel, paying the whole bill of course.

After this whole thing Teresa was really upset, I could tell she was really hurt and she was crying. She packed up her things, told EvilG that tomorrow she and I were going to her family’s house to hang out, then the next night she would stay at her family’s house and then pick her up before the bus left back for Posadas. (I had decided to stay in Cordoba for two more days on my own.) So Saturday, Teresa arranged to pay the bill one day in advance (I think to make sure that Graciela paid her share, but also so that she could spend the Sat night with her family and not worry about having to come back.) Then we went and spent a very nice day with her family, telling horror stories about Evila and laughing, but Teresa was still hurt. I told her that I thought that Graciela was maybe a tad insane, for real. After we told some of the things that happened to the sisters they came to that conclusion as well. I tried to explain the concept of “Passive/Aggressive” to Lina and she said that is what they call, “A cow in the arms” and I think it is very fitting. A big weight, that contributes nothing, carries you down and makes everything difficult.

I am sorry that I was correct about evilG, not for myself (I mean, come on, we all LOVE saying, “I told you so.”) but I know it hit Teresa really hard, and that bothers me, because she is really dear to me, I wouldn’t have her hurt for the world.

We decided to return to Alta Gracia to look for that vase I wanted and to see the inside of Che Guevara’s house because I didn’t go in that first time. At the last minute, Teresa decided to call Graciela and invite her along, just to be polite. Well she decided to go!!! She did manage to keep her mouth completely shut. She went and looked at the church with Teresa as her guide and I found that GREAT vase. I guess I will be shipping some things back to the states.

I ended up spending Sunday, Monday and Tuesday on my own, exploring the city and having some private time. It was really nice (except for the broken toilet in my hotel room on Sunday that couldn’t get fixed until Monday, it was usable but the water ran 24 hours a day, and sooo noisy! What IS it with me and toilets in this country????). I also went and saw an Argentinean movie in the theater, “Apasionado” it was really sweet and I understood a good portion of it. Monday as a treat to myself I decided to see “Men In Black II” in English, but it ended up being dubbed! Still it was pretty funny, that pug is GREAT, and there were parts that were so American that I was the only one laughing in the theater, probably with everyone else wondering what the hell was going on.

Tuesday I checked out of the hotel and the morning desk clerk who barely said more than “Buenos Dias” to me the whole week had a HUGE conversation with me about travel, student exchange, Europe, Argentina, Cordoba……it was really nice. My bus didn’t leave that night until 6pm, so I went to the bus terminal and checked my bag into something I can only call “left luggage” you pay someone to put your bag, back and away and safe. Well it turns out, that not only was I able to leave my bag there all day for just one peso, but because I had my ticket on me, they also gave me a claim check and put it on the bus for me! When I got back to Posadas it was stored on the bus and I picked it up! It was so easy! The man who checked my bag turned out to be a Sonics fan and he had a chatty conversation with me as well. Figures, on the last day. But it was really sweet and you can’t help but like people who tell you how well you talk!

One of the movies on the bus was “Me, Myself and Irene” which also turned out to be MUCH better than I expected, some icky parts but in general, reasonably funny. When I got off the bus Teresa was there to meet me, and when I got home, Celso was really sweet, saying he missed our after lunch walks. Then I had to wash every bit of clothing I owned because after all that time, everything was dirty.

The best surprise was that Kevin had sent me a care package that showed up at the house while I was gone. It had a really wonderful card, film and just in time, I used my last roll in Cordoba, some chocolate kisses (awwwwww), a CD from one of my favorite bands and HOORAY! Coffee from Diva, and a solo French press. Now each morning my coffee is wonderful.

I really do hope that everyone is enjoying my travelogue, because I do actually put a decent amount of time into them, even if it seems like an impersonal chain letter. To everyone who has written me personal emails, thank you SO much, because it ends up meaning a LOT to me. When I am down, or tired, they really lift my spirits. I do miss Seattle and my family and friends, but this is the trip of a lifetime. I can’t believe it is already half over!

Sorry this last one was so long (with both combined, I mean) but I had so much to tell. I am so excited about my Spanish, now I just need to stop sounding so gringo!

01 Agosto 2002 part A

Back in Posadas, I sit in my room and drink a fabulous cup of coffee (the details will come later on that) and I contemplate the week I just spent in Cordoba. It turns out that the bus only took 15 hours to get to there, not the previously explained 18. Still, 15, 18, huuuuuuuuge difference. Not really.

On this bus, on the top, there is a set of two chairs together, then the aisle, then a single chair. Since Graciela was coming with us, I told Teresa it was ok with me if she wanted to sit next to Graciela and I would sit in the solo seat. I assumed then that Teresa would sit in the chair across the aisle from me, but instead G, whom I shall refer to as that Mothball-lady from here on out, sat there. The seats were reasonably comfortable and the view was nice. We left in the evening so I watched the sunset as we drove out of town, it was really beautiful.

So mothball-lady turns out to be a talkative pain in the ass. When the host-guy comes by to bring dinner and ask us what we want to drink, she says something to the tune of, “Well I don’t understand English, so I am not sure.” Even now I haven’t decided if that is a slam on me, or just her usual joke to the bus guy. But she kept saying it every time that guy came by. I was about to say, “Listen lady, that joke was only marginally funny the first time, not in the least funny the second and it isn’t getting any funnier as you re-tell it.” Sometimes it is a good thing to be hampered by a lack of vocabulary.

After dinner they put on the first movie, I can’t even remember what it was but it was something really awful but it was in English with subtitles so I ended up watching it anyway. The second movie was U-571, a WWII movie about submarines (or was it WWI? I am not actually certain, thinking about it) well I had seen bits and parts of it in the past and I slammed it before, but I have to say if you sit through the whole thing, it turns out to be pretty decent, or maybe I was just happy to have another movie in English. Then I stayed up a little to write in my journal. When I tried to go to sleep I kept smelling mothballs, probably all mental but that doesn’t really make much difference. I fell into a fitful sleep (much aided by the eye cover and earplugs supplied so long ago by my dear sister) only to wake up when evilG pulled her coat out of her bag to cover her legs. Just WHY do mothballs have to smell so horrible anyway? You would think by now they would have made something to keep moths away that wasn’t so foul. I would rather have clothes with all sorts of holes in them, then have my clothes smells like that.

The night we traveled there was a full moon and we were driving through all this scrub brush area, passing semi’s. It was indescribably beautiful, I felt like I was in a Thelma and Louise movie, except that I didn’t kill anyone, rob a convenience store, lock a policeman in the trunk of his car and I wasn’t driving to Mexico. This did make me reminisce about those college years with Christie, watching that movie 8 million times, quoting dialogue, “You, say you’re sorry, or I’ll….” I even brought that movie with me on DVD so when I get homesick I can watch it on my computer. Miss ya girlie!

On the bus I decided that since I was halfway through my trip it was time to re-define my goals. I was definitely getting better with my Spanish, what next? Well I am basically deadly afraid of answering the phone, anytime anyone asks me to answer it, I feel deep dread in the pit of my stomach. Also, I could use more vocab and pronunciation work, that likely means more classes at the dog-smelling house. Why not try to have some private English sessions with Tania, I am sure she wouldn’t mind. Need to exercise more. Fear, fear of being wrong, being misunderstood or not understanding is the biggest problem with language. It is time to get over that. Time to answer the phone without being forced, talk to people before they start conversations, during a party, don’t just sit in a corner and talk only to the people I already know.

I finally hit deep restful sleep only to have it be morning and time for breakfast. It was a foul and disgusting dry breakfast that I couldn’t even face eating. It was 9ish when we got into Cordoba and too early to check into the hotel so we went to the neighborhood where Teresa’s family lives. Her parents had a piece of property, that they split up and gave to each girl in the family (Teresa, Louisa and Lina). Now it is a set of 3 or 4 houses with Lina and the mom, then Louisa and her two daughters and their families, and a patio area that doesn’t have a house, that is actually Teresa’s property. All joined so that they families spend a lot of time with each other and are very close. We weren’t staying there because with 3 people it was a bit too much to take on, with Teresa’s mom not being well. Also, Elisa’s daughters Rosario and Sophia were coming from Posadas a few days later. There just wasn’t bed space.

Lina and Louisa were simply wonderful, and really funny, truly they just love life. I can see why Alma likes them so much. They said how much they delighted in Alma’s visit and how much they missed her when she left. They also asked Teresa if Alma had been much in touch and wondered what was going on in her life - that was a little plug to Alma. (For those of you who don’t remember, Alma was the girl who got to stay here the term before I came down.) Silvia (the niece from the waterfall incident) even popped her head in and we talked. I saw Elmice for about 20 good seconds, and even though she wasn’t the sweetest child on the block she is starting to grow on me. Of course, compared to the true evil of Graciela she looks like a perfect little angel.

After a nice lunch and nice dessert (there is almost always a dessert around here, I think they would try to fit one in after breakfast if it was possible) we headed to the hotel. Since it was a “triple” I assumed it would be a larger room with 3 beds in a row and lots of drawer space. Instead it was the same size room you would get with a single, with 3 twin beds two in a row and the other basically laid the other direction near the foot of the others, making a U shape. The 3rd bed was near the door and along a large mirror. Not the best bed in the world but I seized the opportunity to be as far away from Graciela as possible and put my luggage on it. Then I thought we might get a nice chance to get some rest but I was told the tour guide was going to be there soon, so I washed my face, changed my clothes but some makeup on and was ready to go. We were standing there and evilG was urging me to go downstairs with her. Teresa was taking a shower so I told her I was just waiting, well it turns out that Teresa decided NOT to go on this tour so it would just be Stinky and me. Joy.

It wasn’t as horrible as I thought it would be, the city was nice, the tour guide was really sweet and the 2 other people on the little mini-tour bus were also very nice. Graciela, for the most part didn’t make any “I don’t understand English” type jokes. She did seem a tad grumpy but I chalked it up to lack of sleep and travel. I didn’t understand very much of what the tour guide said, but it really was a nice day and I got some nice pictures. I was starting to feel as if I had judged the evilG a little prematurely and had some hopes for the following days. She even fell asleep for a bit on the tour. We got to the hotel about 530 and I was ready to drop, I was so tired and my head was killing me. When we got in, we both said we were going to sleep for a bit, Teresa had already been resting so she went to her family’s place while we slept. When I woke up from my nap around 8pm, I felt so much better!

Teresa came back around that time and we decided to go see some classical music that Teresa had read about in the paper. We got dressed again and started to go out. Well I couldn’t find the money I had left over from the tour earlier, so I looked and looked. It was only 20 some pesos, about $6, so I said “never mind.” Dear me. Graciela went into some sort of tizzy. She looked through all my stuff, including a coat I didn’t even take along on the tour. Then she asked permission to stick her hands in my pockets, bleah. She finally found it tucked into a side pocket of my luggage. I know I would have found it later, I didn’t understand all the uproar. It was nice that she sent to so much trouble to look for me, but, I don’t know, it was freaky.

Well, we get to the place, and no classical music, the paper was wrong, so we went to this upscale shopping mall instead. G was tired so she went back to the hotel and Teresa and I had a really nice dinner alone. The next day was a 10-hour tour of the area surrounding Cordoba, called the Triangulo de Jesuitico, or basically a tour of all the areas where the Jesuits were, way back when. EvilG is some sort of muckity-muck in the ministry of her church in Santiago and when she heard I was going to see Jesuit stuff she showed an interest in going along. Oh dear me NO. However since lunch wasn’t included in the price and it was 48 pesos for the day, she decided to just wait (also it turns out that on the next tour the ladies were both joining me).

Background info on Graciela. She turns out to be the niece of an infamous ex-dictator of Chile (by marriage? Not certain) Every time she says her last name, people look a little more attentive and say, “Pinochet?” with a kind of bemused, poor-you look on their face. That must get a little old. Also, she seems to have decent clothes, she keeps saying how she is a “Lady” and her family is moneyed, why then does she act like she has about two cents to rub together wherever we go, and she always has a death-grip on her purse. I understand being cautious but this seems excessive. Anytime the topic of money comes up, you can bet that EvilG is trying to figure out a way of spending less than anyone else. I bet you are wondering just why I seem so bitter about this woman, well that is coming up in my next installment. While I went to see the Triangulo de Jesuitico, the ladies went to see the Aunt of Celso who lives near Cordoba. Teresa asked me if I was alright traveling on my own, and while I was a little tentative, I decided anything was better than hanging out with Stinky.
Well I couldn’t have had a better time on the tour. Gustavo was our tour guide and after collecting everyone we started on our way. First we went to this little pueblo Caroya, where they have this really long main street lined with these 300 year-old enormous trees. The day is sunny and gorgeous. First stop? A Bodega, or winery to you. Could this tour be MORE designed for me? Not certain. When we get to the bodega, Gustavo pulls me aside and checks to see if I am understanding everything (and for the most part, yes, I know I am missing details, like the name of the tree, but I get the gist. On the tour before I was so tired I just kept spacing out and forgetting to listen. But with a full night’s rest and some breakfast, I felt ready to conquer the world). I told him I worked at a winery in Seattle and this is the first thing he tells the lady who gives us the tour! He made her so nervous! Well, I didn’t understand some of what she said, but the wine knowledge I have, gave me the ability to know what she was talking about it.

Next stop? Artisanal Salami, yup, hand-crafted salami, apparently this area is best known for its wine and its salami. Since Gustavo used my name, loudly, in front of everyone at the winery, it is like I am the new guest-star, Carmen this and Carmen that. It is really cool, everyone is SOOOOOOOOOO nice!!!! On this tour there was a couple from Mexico, a couple with their baby from Buenos Aires and two people who live in the area around Buenos Aires (I can’t remember the exact name of it, but I was assured that it is the “most beautiful area in Argentina”) and me. I thought those people were a “couple” but they didn’t have wedding rings (I looked because I was considering asking them if they had kids, since everyone asks me that) so I asked the girl her name, “Juanita” and then I asked her what her boyfriend’s name was and OOOOPS, just cousins! I was so embarrassed. His name was Ricardo, btw.

Then we finally got around to stopping at a few old missions and churches. EvilG would really have hated this trip, it was the most expensive trip this company does, and at every church we all had to pay a peso or two to get in. This is where people started talking to me, Ricardo has visited the U.S. a couple times so we talked about that. The people with the baby (totally adorable little girl who smiled a whole lot) asked me why I was in Argentina. Then we go to this great restaurant for lunch. It is an asado style restaurant, which means bar-b-que but completely different than in the states! On the table there are wooden cutting boards, basically for chairs facing each other, one per-2 people. They bring you a whole lots of different salads, French fries with scrambled eggs on them, beverage of choice, and then the cook starts bring out different kinds of meat. First a steak, and you split it with the person across from you. No plates, eat off of the cutting board, just use your fork for the salad. Then we had pork chops, then just a huge assortment, chorizo, blood sausage (tastes like pâté in a casing) everything was wonderful tasting. One of the things the cook brought out (I can’t even remember the name) were these rings of something, that looked kind of like calamari, but a bit larger, and everyone looked at me, with that, “oh I wonder how she is going to take THIS” look on their faces. I asked what it was, and no one would tell me. All they would say is that it was really rich. Well you don’t need to be a rocket scientist to understand that this was most likely intestine. So I took a little bite, it was gamey and dry and I decided trying it was one thing, but eating it was another. So I didn’t finish it, to my credit I did eat the blood sausage which I had sworn before I would never try.
Then we all start a discussion about finances, and how Argentina’s downfall was basically the start of a domino-style crashing of the other economies of the countries in South America. So I chimed in that the US was in a down period, blah, blah, blah. The guy from Mexico said it was simply due to September 11. So I had to go into how it likely didn’t help any, but that things had been going poorly with our economy well before that. Then the lady with the baby asked me if Carmen was my real name. So I got to tell them how my Spanish professor had chosen to call me that, how I liked it and since my real name was difficult for everyone in South America to pronounce, it seemed easier to go with Carmen. This was a lot like throwing down the gauntlet. So, I told them my real name and they all said things like, “Oh, Karen? Oh we know that name!” Then I spelled it, “Ohhhhh, Carrie” and they all thought they had it right, it was really funny though, because they didn’t. We all laughed a lot about that. Then the lady who asked originally said, “Like that movie, Carrie?” Maybe because my parents spelled my name so much differently than other Carries, I have learned to really dislike that spelling, and I don’t really want to be compared to a lady who gets pg blood dumped on her at the prom.

“No, no, no, no, no,” I said, “well yes it is the same, but completely different!” at this point the man from Mexico, claimed that I had a great grasp on the language and gave me a high five! This is where I let go of my fear and realized that I can speak, more than just a little, and that the concept of being “fluent” is maybe slightly overstating the ability I will have gained when I leave, it isn’t far from the truth either. I really am getting somewhere with my goals. This isn’t just some fun vacation, I really CAN speak Spanish, or Castellano as they call it here. Taking this tour all by myself was one of the best things that could have happened. I even got the email of the cousins and hopefully we will hook up for at least one night, when I am in Buenos Aires with my sister.

We then saw a whole lot more and didn’t get back to town until 8:30, a full 11 hours on the road. Since I was gone a whole week and so many things happened, this has already gone on for quite a bit. I will write another one of these completing the journey in Cordoba, telling the final chapter on EvilG, or stinky or mothball lady, however you prefer to think of her. But for now, I give you a Karri/Carmen break.

Chau todos, likely more later today or tomorrow.

23 Julio 2002

I have packed up a set of clothes, some essentials, the ever-present camera and we are about to embark for Cordoba…POR FIN (finally). We have been talking about going to Cordoba for about 3 weeks now but things have gotten in the way. No getting out of it now, we have the tickets. I don’t know what I think about 18 hours on a bus, but this one has seats that fold down into beds, a movie, music, dinner and breakfast. It is a double decker and we are going to sit on the top because the bottom has the toilet….ewwwwww.

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

18 Julio 2002

When one lives in a country and isn’t fully fluent, some confusion definitely arises. So think of the following stories as a warning as to what might happen in such a situation.

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.

15 Julio 2002

It has been a little bit since I have written, but that is because I have settled into a daily routine here in Posadas. Wake up around 9:30ish, coffee (instant but it will do for now, until I get back to espresso-ville), check email, read the headlines on the Seattle Times website (amazingly, not much of import seems to happen and I find that true for all newspapers, even the Spanish ones). Then we usually have lunch, while people rest here I usually go for a walk or write some, practice my vocabulary, laundry or something like that. I also find the tv here is just as boring as back in the States. In the last week, instead of doing this, I have accompanied one of the professors from the Elliot Institute to a few of her private tutoring lessons. Then it is usually time for dinner, then a little bit of cards or talking, then some private reading and bed around midnight or 1. Repeat. However, on the weekends after dinner we usually go see some live music, or dancing, or both and we all get to bed around 3am.

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.”

04 Julio 2002

On the anniversary of the day of my country’s independence, I sit in Posadas and contemplate what it is for me to be a citizen of the United States. At this time, for me, it means that it is pretty easy to enter any country in the world without a visa, as long as I don’t plan on staying more than 90 days. It means that I can go to a bank and exchange traveler’s checks . The people in Argentina right now can’t even take money out of their bank accounts, they can use their debit cards to withdraw something called “LECOP” which looks like money, and in many places is accepted as money for exchange of goods and services, but you can’t deposit it and it isn’t really money at all.

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.

29 Junio 2002

Well I thought for a bit that not much crazy was going to happen to me after my last adventures, but of course, I was a tad bit wrong, I am a Norton, after all. Drama 24 hours a day, real or imagined.

We took another trip to Paraguay on Friday. This time to take a long bus ride to San Ignacio Iguazu to see some Jesuit mission ruins. Had to wake up and be ready to go by 8am, which I was, with one thing and another (crossing borders and with papers getting checked missing bus connections) it wasn’t until 11:30 that we arrived in the town where we were going. Since it was such a long bus ride we were much farther North and it was considerably hotter, making a grand choice of my black t-shirt let me tell you.

Everything shuts down for siesta which happens, oh, right around 11:30 and doesn’t open for another 2 1/2 hours. That includes old ruined Jesuit missions AND their museums. We were in Paraguay and Argentinean pesos weren’t working here (however they work great in Encarnacion, the Paraguayan border town just across the river from Posadas) and none of the banks would change our money into Guaranis (Paraguayan money). So no food, damn hot and nothing to see, we got on another bus and spent two and a half more hours in hot misery heading back to Argentina.

But we finally arrived at the border crossing. Usually, if you live in the area you just need to have a travel document with you that guys who hop on the bus check and usually let you pass through. If you have a passport however, you have to hop off and run into the immigration office. Having done this one time before (see notes about missing buses earlier) I jumped right off and ran over to immigration. Luckily I was the only one in line and the guy was really cool, even gave me the thumbs up sign when I got stamped. Oh one silly side note, every time you enter or leave a country here you get a stamp, so with 2 trips to Paraguay in one week I ended up with about 8 extra stamps in my passport. However I was so speedy that I was able to hop right back on the same bus.

However, when we came into Paraguay that morning, Teresa hadn’t received a little piece of paper saying that she had entered Paraguay, therefore she wasn’t able to leave. Huh???? Anyway, we both had to get off the bus while she dealt with that beauracratic hassle. No biggie, 10 minutes later a new bus arrived. Then they drop you all off at the entrance to Argentina. You get your docs checked and then they let you back on the bus. Well, we were last in line and the when we got there that guy just had a thing for us. First, my passport is green, not the usual blue and that got the once-over. Then he saw all the stamps in and out of Paraguay. More suspicion. He asked how long I was staying in Argentina, Teresa answered for me, “Two months,” which wasn’t entirely true as it was a tad longer but, whatever. He stamps the entry back into Argentina and the days allowed to stay (the norm for USA citizens is 90 days, and my 2 other entry stamps had that designation). After getting the passport stamped and initialed we walk over to a gendarmerie and he gives the passports the once over, suddenly I notice my passport is marked for only 60 days in Argentina and I needed at least 70. CRAP. Talked the army guy about it, and he said, “Well, why did he do that?” Which is what I wanted to know. So I had to walk back to Mr. Official and discuss a change. He wasn’t too happy about it, but in the end, after missing our bus yet AGAIN, I got the 90 days I needed. See if I ever go back to Paraguay.

Today we drove to San Ignacio Miní (more Jesuit ruins but completely in Argentina) and I finally got to see some ruins. They were immense and beautiful and I got LOTS of pictures. Really, really super fantastic. Then by accident I agreed to go see the house of Horacio Quiroga, a famous author who lived near the Jesuit ruins in the early 1900s. It was great, I got to see his house, which had a gorgeous view of the Paraná river (the one separating Paraguay and Argentina). I even saw an avocado tree!!! Celso saw several avocados (aguacates in Spanish) on the ground and he picked them up, he asked permission to take them and the guide said it was cool. As we were driving back to Posadas we went past a farm (campo) and Celso said it was theirs, we are going to go see it tomorrow!

We got back to town and I was bushed so I went to take a siesta and (no surprise to Kevin) as soon as I laid down I wasn’t the least bit tired, so I just read. An hour or so later, Cecilia and Sergio arrived and I got up and we all just hung out and talked. Just as they were about to leave I suggested trying to hook up the laptop to the ADSL modem. We hadn’t really even tried yet, we got stuck at the “Do you have this pc program that links you to the modem?” stage. Since I didn’t, I thought we couldn’t proceed, but later, the more I thought about