RIO DE JANEIRO:
- Revived my dormant Portuguese; it woke right up
- Rode the "bonde" in Santa Teresa:
It was sort of sketchy late at night, which we (only Karolina and I, everyone else was tired) didn't know until we got there but ah well. You can see kids hanging on to the side - they wait for it to come, then jump on so as not to pay the 35 cents it costs to get home. I had a conversation with some people commuting home. They talked about how Rio was the land where the poor and the rich live closely together and no one gives it a second thought; and foreigners stand way, way out.
- Stayed in this superhostel Mellow Yellow, $20 per night with (I said this before but allow me to repeat) a hot tub (which was actually broken), a "chillout" room, a TV and playstation room, free internet, a pool table and bar on the top floor...if ever I got separated from the Irish I just went to the bar and found them there.
- Went to Lapa, where everyone parties in the street
- THE BEACH! Given the time of year you will take this for granted but in Argentina it is very cold right now, so going to Brazil and getting to go to the beach is like going to California in the middle of dead NJ winter.
- Saw a soccer match between Brazil's most popular team and a not so popular team. You should have seen the passion of the Brazilians - I really wish I cared that much about anything.
- MORE BEACH!
- Went on a tour of a favela, a shantytown. The biggest one in Rio...you can only enter with a guide or else you're a real idiot. The shantytowns are built up on the sides of mountains (where no one else would ever build), so we had to take motorcycle taxis to get to the top. Which was an awesome ride. Of course we stuck out, but everyone was generally kind, as part of the money for the tour goes to their hospitals and such...it is unimaginable that people could live in this kind of setting, although in a way almost impressive how the buildings pile up on top of each other and leave intricate alleyways in between for transportation. But the one we visited had 150,000 inhabitants and something like this, I don't think, could ever be reconciled. If you live in a favela, you may never leave.
- after that we went back to the beach (lol)
- Looked for a market Sunday night but didn't find any, and actually found ourselves in a really dodgy area - nothing open - as I asked a cab driver for directions some Brazilian dude was circling our group, bent down to tie his shoes and one of the girls noticed he had a gun in his waistband. So we high-tailed it out of there, just short of running; if we'd waited another 10, 20 seconds we would have been mugged at gunpoint (I was off to the side, talking to the cab driver, so I could have effectively hidden myself from the rest of the group; I'm not that scummy though, really...). Good job Linda. This is the girl, mind you, who fought off 2 muggers, drunk at 5 in the morning, when they tried to steal her purse with camera inside. She is tiny but tough and likes to sing Irish drinking songs every night.
- There was a capoeira show in our hostel, and I was the first to get picked to get up and do it myself. Someone has pictures so they are forthcoming. After that we went to a club, and Brazilian clubs kick the $hit out of Arg clubs. Great craic that night including Karolina dancing on the stage, not as sluttily as the other girls so (I didn't tell her this but) I heard some snickering around me.
- on Monday night we participated in this hostel-wide quiz. Who was the vice president while Reagan was in office? Duh. Japanese word for orchestra? President of Brazil? Most famous musician and cultural preserver in Brazil? I definitely did not know them all and our group came in 3rd out of about 8 - 10 groups, but it was good fun. Also they had 3 dollar rum and cokes that night. 2 of the Irish broke off that night to talk to other people, so the 5 of us remaining paired with an ex-military Israeli guy who was like slow-release wacky, sometimes psychotic fun, who came in very handy during the question: "What is the name of the Israeli army's secret sector that carries out executions..." or something like that. Afterwards a couple from Northern Ireland joined our table because we emanated craic...went to bed around 3...
- we were supposed to get up at 6 for the early flight but didn't awake until 7:15. the cheap taxi I'd negotiated the day before was waiting at 7, so in a frenzy we got ready and made it to the airport with just a little time to spare. I don't have any pictures in Brazil cause I hate using my camera there, but everyone else took a ton so I'll share some of them when I get a chance. I do have a picture of Kate's burnt leg though, make sure to check that one out.
SALTA:
Well, I'll just point out the highlights:
- the gondola to the top of a mountain in the middle of the city of Salta
- the cheap artisan markets lining the parks and the streets
- wine
- getting dropped off by a bus in the middle of the highway, saying, "This is your stop."
- the multi-coloured mountains (see pictures below! also more pictures to come)
- hitchhiking to get to our town. it was a big truck on a deserted road just like in the movies. it was probably a stupid idea but we survived
- SEEING REAL LIVE LLAMAS. AND LLAMA EMPANADAS (I didn't try one but wish I had now).
- untouched ruins
- reconstructed ruins
- cacti
- meeting real gauchos - Argentina's cowboy - one night even finding their bar outside downtown where they all meet up! except they didn't want to talk to us gringos...they wanted to get drunk
- and the other time we met gauchos in Tilcara on Thursday and they begged us to stay, but we'd already paid for the bus ride back and the hostel that night
- the insane landscapes
- Karolina's optimism & her Polish accent
- eatin olives
- seeing the Incan mummy girl in the museum on the square - the real 6 year old body mysteriously preserved by the Incas 500 years ago
- having lots of pasta because it was good and the cheapest dinner available
- the club Friday night in Salta
- the Danish guys from the hostel whom we showed how to have fun (they had been volunteering for 3 months in impoverished areas, were almost going home and were very tired)
- the Argentinean guy that was dancing with Karolina all night and turned out to be gay, complained about what a drag it was to be so popular in town, and when saying goodbye grabbed one of the Danish guys' crotches
- When I asked if he had ever been to the US, he said:
"Ya. I was like in 'CA' for like 2 years." (he really said the letters "CA")
"I'm from New Jersey."
"Ughh." (a disgusted scoff. lmao)
- then Karolina and I didn't go to sleep before taking the next bus to Cafayate, further south, to see the Quilmes ruins, the biggest in Arg. We had to walk about 8 miles round trip to get to them from where the bus dropped us off. When we got back to Cafayate, we began our trip home, stopping in the bigger city of Tucuman, then having a little layover before our 2 AM buses...got dinner...I had the BEST lomito and strawberry milkshake. you couldn't even call it a smoothie, it was a milkshake.
- oh, also the day when our bus back to Salta got pulled over by cops, twice, looking for drugs. dogs came onboard once. and the other time we had to evacuate, and they were meticulously checking everyone's ID and went through their baggage. except we had no ID whatsoever; but they didn't really care, they just smelled my backpack and waved us forward.
- and last but not least - paragliding! (we were going to do so in Rio de J. but the weather was bad the day we left to do it, so we couldn't.) Karolina is afraid of heights but forced herself to do it, I was a little scared when push came to shove but went ahead with it, and don't regret it. a 20 minute natural high.
pictures are here, don't miss them:
http://s296.photobucket.com/albums/mm182/dck249/Argentina%20thus%20far%20part%202/
so yes, it was a fucking awesome week and then some of travelling - South America is officially my playground.
I came home early Sunday morning. My ex host dad picked me up from where the bus dropped me off (the middle of the highway, this bus didn't stop in the terminal in town) and took me to my new host fam. I could probably double this entry talking about Rafaela since I got back on Sunday...but in the interest of brevity, I'll just say...the father took me and Berni (who they call Titi, and the daughter is Fani...titty and fanny, I wonder what they call me behind MY back!) to see some buildings he'd designed, a monastery, some houses. Berni tells everyone in school that I'm staying in his house, but when they come over, they are stupefied. One came over yesterday and stood literally open-mouthed. These are 7-year-olds we're talking about. Played soccer with Berni, and his friends, one hit his head on the heater and started bleeding and that was the end of that. Let's see. The father loves BB King and other black musicians, Creedence Clearwater, U2, Beatles, Nirvana, but is missing good ol Led Zeppelin from his collection. (I should get back the unappreciated L.Z. IV I gave Luis for his birthday in April and give it to Jorge.) He also gave me some of his books on architecture to read. Getting right on that. The mother is way different from Cristina...I can't really put my finger on her. She's not nurturing in the way Cristina was, but if I ever think she's sort of cold, she'll suddenly do something to surprise me - bring me a sample of lunch, bread with the pasta sauce she just finished making - express how much she loves a song and give a long explanation - things like this. She is more liberated from being a mother (in the traditional sense) than Cristina, but still does a good job with her children and obviously misses Fani (who's studying in Buenos Aires) and perhaps it's taken its toll on her. When I first met her - her name is Corina - she sat me down and in a very systematic way asked my schedule, my habits, my preferences - with a very "This is how it's going to be" attitude. Sort of controlling...uptight...and all of a sudden...well ok, half of this paragraph is now about Corina, so I'll end it. But sometimes she says things and I'm not sure if it's because Spanish is my second language or because she really is being bitchy, but at times I am shocked at her phraseology. That blunt brand of speaking that is actually very rare in people. I'm still trying to figure her out.
but all is grand here, and school's winding down, and I'm feeling pretty happy about everything.
my ex host family let me keep my cell phone while I'm still here and let me keep my bicycle as well.
and on Sunday 15 kids from Atlanta arrived on an exchange program - they'll be here for 2 weeks total. they're 16/17, and I haven't been very impressed with them so far. it's funny because I had begun to miss Americans, in all our funny, laid-back, friendly & unassuming glory; but meeting these 15 Atlantans reminded me that a lot of us (at that age especially) are bitches and assholes. As soon as I realized this I was much happier going back and talking to the Argentineans. I'm not being judgemental, I swear. The guys are actually pretty nice - even the one that replaced me in Laorden's house - and one of them sounds just like Napoleon Dynamite. It cracks me up.
so now I'm making a mix, and have most of the rest of my classes planned
and Hillary's out of the race!
and this weekend I'm going to Mendoza and meeting up with Mark, one of the Irish guys stationed in Chile. He cracks me up too. He almost left his passport at the airport once, but April (the other one in Chile) got it for him. Anyway the plan is to see the biggest mountain in the Americas and visit some vineyards and drink wine (all of Argentina's best wine comes from Mendoza) and just have the craic. It will be cold too so maybe some snowboarding? we shall see.
tomorrow, as promised--and as long awaited!--I will sign the second graders' backpacks and stuffed animals. oh, crazy crazy kids.
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