Vida de Gaucho

Well, I finally have internet!  If you are not aware, I'm currently living in a tiny town called Cholila in Patagonia nestled up next to the Andes.  Right now I only have internet at the school I volunteer at and usually don't bring my laptop with me here, so I'm not very quick on writing people back.  In addition, the internet at the school is too slow for Skype and pretty much anything else.  But hey, there's a reason I came here, and it sure as hell wasn't to waste my time on youtube!  I've been very happy with life here, the change from bustling modern city life to occasionally living without electricity and usually without internet has been refreshing.   As you can probably tell by the photo above, there are amazing mountains everyone I look; This is quite an improvement over the endless cement and skyscrapers of Buenos Aires.  I've been using my free time at the school and throughout the week to practice my Spanish and do small day hikes to get some exercise and great views!  

One of the few things that I get tired of around here is the routine.  Not necessarily the things I do in a day, but the fact that (during the week) I always have to wake up at 7:05 and catch the same bus every morning.  I prefer life a little less regimented, but since I live with boys from the school I have to follow their schedule.  Speaking of living...I live with 6 boys aged 14 to 17 and they have about 14 or 17 times as much as I do on any given day.  In addition to them, there is one professor assistant who is different every night that sleeps in my room.   Life is simple and there is not much in the house, but the food is tasty and authentic.  Now, Cholila!

Goalpost for our daily fútbol matches

View of the mountains from my front yard

At the edge of the town, there are farms until the foothills of the andes

One of the few paved roads in Cholila looking out toward the mountains

The end of the above road

Life here is relaxed and down to earth.   Every morning I wake up at 7, take a shower, eat a tiny breakfast of tea or coffee and bread.   The boys I live with and I walk a few blocks on a dirt road to the bus stop in the town and take it on a bumpy 15 minute ride to the school.  There, I typically help out in the kitchen in the mornings and spend my afternoons cleaning, working in the expansive garden or teaching an english class with a professor.  At the end of the day (usually around 6 or 7) the boys and I take a van home, drop our things off inside and play soccer until dinner a few hours later.  After dinner, we clean and promptly go to sleep around 11.   Sounds like a lot, but I often find myself with free time at the school (although rarely at home).  The first week, all this free time sometimes left me a little bored, but now there's always something to do or someone to help.  If I want to take a little time for myself I stroll up a nearby mountain, usually finding a great view at the top. Still, I have been faced with the frustration of massive, beautiful mountains in the distance that I do not have the means or money to climb.  GRRR.  Well, here's a glimpse at what things look like from the top of the hill nearby the school:

Must...hike...more!

In other news, I'm exhausted and might have had my camera stolen along with my sweater as I dozed off on a bus ride this past weekend.   There's a small chance that I left these things at my friends house but I have my doubts.  The bus was nearly empty save a few locals travelling to the next city, and I let my guard down.  So, don't be expecting any more pictures for a while....  Thankfully my memory card was left in my laptop so I have pictures for this blog and the next one.  

My time here is flying by, and I only have 10 days more in Cholila!  As for this next weekend, I'll likely be going to a farm of a professor where there are two volunteers from the UK.  A week or two ago the school went to help build a greenhouse and I really enjoyed the area.  In addition, there's a free concert somewhere near the nearby hippie capital El Bolson. See ya later!

Gringo for a week

(Heyo, this blog was originally going to go up last Sunday, October 29th, but I wasn't able to upload all the pictures.  I have a new blog about life in Cholila I will post tomorrow...ish).

The past week (my last week) in Buenos Aires I had been busy doing tons of touristy things that I have been putting off.  It was a really great time and my trips to Tigre and the ecological reserve really gave me a nice breath of fresh air from this bustling city. Although I usually cringe when I'm surrounded by tourists and doing tourist things, I decided that since I was in Buenos Aires, I might as well see some of the commons sights, as well as a few places a bit off the tourist trail.  Enjoy.


On Monday I attempted to go to Tigre, a small distant suburb of Buenos Aires with a developed and touristy waterfront and history with rowing clubs.  The fastest and cheapest way to get there is by train, which I attempted to do.  I failed miserably.  All in all, I took one taxi, two trains, two buses and one subway.  After all this, I found myself in tourist central with my camera so I got to work. 

As I came out of the subway, an incoming protest had cleared the streets for this shot.

Casa Rosada (Equivalent to the White House)

Plaza De Mayo, a place with some historical significance pertaining to Argentina's independence and the frustratingly unsymmetrical workplace of the president

"Always with the mothers." 

                                               Puerto Madero, a place where the locals and tourists can stroll along                                                the water away from the sounds and smells of nearby downtown.

Tourist trap boats

Some point in time, England decided to give Argentina a clock tower.  The locals call it Big Ben.

A uninteresting picture of the widest avenue in the world....not a fun street to cross.

The following Tuesday I took a trip to Buenos Aires' very own ecological reserve. In the middle of the 20th century,  there was a island of trash built up as part of some massive public works undertaking. Years after years of political turmoil, native species began to spring up and take over this pile of trash.  Recently it was designated a protected park of the city closed to motorized traffic. 

The city's newer skyscrapers end abruptly at one end of the reserve.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A half finished hut I found to study Spanish in.

The view of grasslands

The whole place was peaceful, quiet and deserted

The entire coastline was frustratingly covered in this stuff

Although  impossible to photograph, there were flocks of these amazing colorful birds

 I did eventurally make it to Tigre on Thursday in the afternoon.  Normally I would be volunteering a good portion of the day at my community center, but I put in an extra 5 hours the day prior to get some time off.  I managed to spend only 15 pesos (~4 dollars) on the entire trip, quite a feat for an area prone to tourist prices.  With my frugality I still managed a museum and a little food on top of the train to and fro.

One of the still functioning rowing clubs (the boats in the water are from a separate tourist operation)

The walkway by the river on a perfect sunny day!

The maritime museum.  A mix of enormous and intricate models of ships of times past and antique treasures and gear salvaged from wrecks and the like

Anyone up for a little rowing? Dad?

In warehouse-style ad on there were an array of mines, submarines torpedo and much more.   Nothing seemed to be organized in a particular way, but almost everything had a small little. 

Well, my week of tourist stuff in Buenos Aires.  Although it was only a week and a half ago, Buenos Aires already feels a month away as I'm writing this.  Life is tranquil and relaxed here in the country and expect another blog post within a day or two! 

¡Colectivos!

 Here there are three ways to get around Buenos Aires: the Subte (crowded and really dirty), Taxis (super fast but expensive) and buses (awesome).  Unlike in every city I've been to, each bus(collectivo)  line is independently owned by a company.  This means that some buses are green and others some are red, white & blue.  Some are plastered with ads, some with artsy exteriors; some lines have enough buses to have 4 in a row, some lines always have a 20 minute wait.  About the only thing every bus has in common in Buenos Aires is that they all have insane drivers and it only costs about a quarter to ride one.  Another cool thing is that you can pretty much get from point A to B without walking more than 4 blocks anywhere in the city.  To do this you need the pocket-sized GUIAT. 

 I took this seemingly-boring bus home one day.  The driver had long dreads, big square shades, and loved reggae.  Weed-themed stickers and random bobble-heads dominated the dash. 

At night, the awesome buses show their true colors. Chrome, blacklights, disco balls or loud music: nothing is off limits and each bus is a bit different. 

A Semi and a Shantytown

Legend tells of a place between the train tracks and the highway, a land full of mud, garbage and semi trucks.   A place such as this is out of sight of those on the overpass; obscured by billboards from anyone else.   In this place there is one large, rusty, building (hidden among many larger, rustier buildings) with a secret: An enormous collection of jumbo-sized television props.-Patagonian folklore

When I was planning out my trip for Argentina, I knew a critical part for me was immersion in whatever culture I found.   In my three months I'm doing a variety of volunteer projects here and in Patagonia and decided to not enroll in any language classes.  This is why I found myself on another 45 minute bus ride to a far-away barrio of Buenos Aires last Wednesday morning.  I work at a community center called "Los Pibes"(meaning The Children) and usually spend my time cooking some meal, doing dishes or talking to whoever is willing to put up with my Spanish.  The name originates from a period of military rule though parts of the 70s and 80s when dissenting citizens were kidnapped and (presumably) tortured and killed.  During this reign of terror, 10,000-30,000 people "disappeared" some of which were young children from their parents, hence the name.  Basically, the people of Los Pibes have strong political views; you can find more information on the Dirty War on the wiki page.  This particular day a woman I had talked to a few times before asked me if I wanted to help something something somewhere.  Although I didn't quite get all the important verbs and nouns, I agreed to help her. 

While the rest of my housemates were sitting in desks and picking up important Argentinean Spanish (Canstellano) bits I was strolling down a street for a bit longer than I expected for an average chore...  I managed to figure out that we were going on a bus to a TV station.  OK, well that cleared things up, sorta.  Well we all eventually got on a bus riding 20 minutes further away from my volunteer assignment to a part of town with big streets and tall buildings.  We almost forgot the older of the members going on our trip because he fell asleep on the back of the bus, but all managed to get out in front of a building that had "CANAL 7" in big silver letters on the front.  The woman and I walked up to the front door where a man came out and told us to all go around to the back and wait.  So the five of us did just that.  We waited. And waited. And waited.    I found out that the guy who was with us who was my age was the son of the woman, and that the other two men had been involved with Los Pibes for a while.  About that time one of the large garage doors behind us opened up and out came a news van covered in blue "7" decals driven by two Argentinean news-crew people.   So, at the point I'm guessing we're going to do something reasonable like load the van with things for the organization or maybe that the TV station was donating the van to Los Pibes (I heard someone mention the TV station and Los Pibes were amigos).  Well, no, that's not what happened.  We all jumped into the news van and started traveling even further away from the already far community organization where I started my day.

I wasn't necessarily worried about anything, but as we crossed the train tracks, drove on trash-covered, muddy streets to somewhere, I felt a wee bit more on edge than usual.  As our driver slowly navigated around a few semi-trucks and pothole ponds.  I looked out and saw quite a bit of the "other side" of Buenos Aires: all kinds of trash piled up in any corner of a building, dogs and people roaming lazily about,  houses and strange shops made out of barrels and sheet metals.  We rounded a corner and there was nothing but a dirt road long with a warehouse on one side and the on-ramp of a freeway overpass on the other. All of us got out and sat down on the elevated cement foundation that jutted out from the building.   Scratch that, all of us except for the driver who never turned off the van and drove back around the corner we came from.  More waiting and I found myself giving up on communicating for a minute or two, but my respite of silence didn't last long.  A loud, painful screeching sound from behind startled all of us to our feet.  A new man had pushed the sliding metal door aside and we all went inside.

In the dim light I saw a bunch of strange props made out of wood, plastic, metal anything.  Many of these were two or three times as tall as me.  I asked what we were going to be doing the afternoon and my friend responded (and I understood!) that they were waiting for a truck.  I took this as my cue to wander and see what treasures I could find.   What I found was super neat.  Imagine the backstage of a theatre production that goes on forever and follows no particular theme.  There were two isles that traveled along the three mountain ranges of wooden arches, game show signs, bar stools, dusty mirrors, big worn canvases with political slogans and wood blocks.     I was about a third down one of the isles when I found my favorite prop so far; I had discovered a tall, tacky red spiral staircase that had been pushed next to a shelf far above my head for access to more treasures.  As I considered climbing upward a  loud "THUMP" jolted my focus back to the job at hand.  I walked back toward the entrance and helped move a small staircase outside.  When I reached the door I saw a super-long flatbed truck that we were to apparently fill with whatever the man from the newsstation offered up.  This man, was up high on some massive shelf yelling out "cuidado!" and throwing down wooden pillars twice as tall as me.  After a volley was complete, we would move in and carry things out into the truck.  We continued to do this for a while and in about an hour we had squeezed in pretty much everything that would fit.  We all hopped in the back of the truck and began to move.

We started bouncing away from the warehouse, but my mind was still lingering on all the sweet things that I'm sure were hidden away somewhere just a little bit out of reach.  I hung on to the two foot railing and straddled a large wooden arch. We drove past the same sad scenes as before, but it became more important to brace myself against some of the more jarring potholes.  Finally reaching a road my new amigos and I got to enjoy looking about the city at 50 mph with no roof over our heads.  I have to say, bouncing around and seeing all the other insane drivers in Buenos Aires was a pretty awesome feeling.  After getting stuck in a little bit of traffic we continued the insane journey past the colorful houses of La Boca neighborhood and at last arrived and unloaded.

Sure, my ass hurt from sitting on a chunk of wood for the past 40 minutes, I was tired, sweaty, and volunteered 3 hours later than I normally would have.  I smelled like exhaust and sweat, was hungry and had a long bus ride home ahead of me.  But, as you might know, I'm not one who prefers normality and comfort and that has had to have been one of my best days in BA so far.  I got home, took a shower, ate a massive meal and went to sleep knowing, that in at least four peoples' eyes, I wasn't just another annoying gringo.

Mi Casa

I promise I'll start actually writing stuff more..... As for today, I hope you're interested in my house and what living in Buenos Aires is like.  Extra special bonus: I turned my keyboard and spellchecker back to English so there's not a billion typos!

First, my house!  This place is full of many colorful paint and natural light.  Everywhere, that is except for my small, boring white room.  It's kinda like a dorm room.  Anyways, the rest of the house looks like each room was built decades apart and as a result nothing is completely consistent (doors, windows, ceiling height, etc.).   I don't know exactly how to explain it, but the line of indoors and outdoors is blurred here.  The house has a grass courtyard, small patio, kitchen, living room, a separate living space for my host parents and rooms for all the rest of us.  Pics or it didn't happen, right?  The order is from the entrance of the house to my host parents bedroom on the far side.

Every day when I return home, after walking down a very long, white hallway, I get a nice view into the small patio:

Pati-oh yeah!

If you look through the windows at the far side of the previous picture, you'll see that they look into the living room and dining place. This photo shows how open and relaxed the feel of the whole house is, there is no room that is more than 5 steps from being out in the sunshine. 

Looking across the grassy courtyard, you can see the kitchen from a new angle and notice the different styles mixed together in the building.

 

Meet Rocco, one of my good buddies here in Buenos Aires.  He decided to pose for me in front of my host parents room.

 

It's been about a week and a half since I arrived and I'm now comfortable with my neighborhood.  I live in a "trendy" neighborhood with lots of middle class families, bars, cafes and clubs.  It's quite the scene at night, but during the day it's pretty quiet.  So far, I haven't found that much of a difference between the different barrios (neighborhoods) of Buenos Aires; There's almost always dog poop, street art, questionable sidewalks and happy people.  Navigating Buenos Aires can be a little tricky because streets are not always marked well and there are different types of street signs.  Anyways, I took my camera out for a walk around my block to see what I could snap a picture of (and to gain perplexed looks from the locals gazing at the blonde boy talking photos of broken sidewalks).

There was a lot more art on this wall, but these three guys are my favs.

When walking around, it really does matter what street you're on.  As far as I can tell the maintenance and cleaning of sidewalks is left up to the owners of shops and residents.  The picture on the left was taken just around the corner from the one on the right.  In any of the other outlying barrios of Buenos Aires, sidewalks are just as random.  Walking along some of the massive roads is one place to find consistent(-ly boring) sidewalks.

 

This is the street corner closest to my house.   As torn up as this sign may look, these kinds of street markings are the better ones.  Often, the only marking for streets will be plates on the walls of buildings at intersections that are near impossible to see when you're on a bus looking for a street. 

Also nice to see that my block is sponsored by my cell phone provider, Claro!

Well, that's about all I have for you now.  Buenos Aires is a massive city that still manages to have nice people everywhere.  My pictures might make the city look run-down, but keep in mind that this city is not in Europe or the US.  The combination of huge population, a rapidly growing economy and recent political strife all lead to a city that hasn't yet developed infrastructure we take for granted in the States. 

Stay tuned for a semi-bummer blog about corrupt cops and humanity in a big city.  Chau for now!

One Ben, 2 Colorado State Grads and 20 Aussies

Traveling for 22 hours normally wouldn't have left me feeling all that alert.   However, sleep and comfort were not really on my mind when "¡Bienvendios a Buenos Aires!" came across the airplanes' PA.  When I dismounted and continued down a endless, curving, window-lined corridor I had the realization that I hadn't quite filled out my papers, leaving two or three spaces blank.  Normally this would be a minor problem, but since 250 passengers were being herded down a corridor toward customs it appeared there was no way of comprehending my 8-point font (decidedly Spanglish) questions. As I was scowling down at my declarations form I realized that I was now walking by myself on a thick, red line under signs that read ESTADOS UNIDOS-UNITED STATES.  Even with the laughably  bilingual sign, I still had no idea what I was doing when I walked up and collided with the back of the line.  I looked up to apologize but before I could form the words an adventurous looking couple queried, "Colorado State, huh?"  After a second or two of confusion I remembered the sweatshirt I was wearing and immediately started off in conversation with the two Colorado State Alumni.   There advice on the matter of the forms was to put a slash through all the blank boxes I didn't understand and sign at the bottom, essentially declaring that I was bringing nothing at all into the country.   A few scowls and stamps later, we headed our separate ways and searched for our luggage. 

The next half hour was effing awesome.  I hopped into my shuttle car and my driver and I headed off to my home-stay.  On the way there I saw amazing buildings, completely foreign billboards, strange cars, EVERYTHING that was new to me.  Oh, and all this while riding in an insane city for traffic.  Buenos Aires is a place where, even on a 6-lane freeway with police, everyone drives as fast as they can, nobody uses turn signals, tailgating is the norm, and nobody cares at all about lanes.  In this city, police not only drive cars and motorcycles, but have ATVs that zig-zag though traffic at insane speeds.  As I observed everything I tried my Spanish out on my driver, who was not only unaccustomed to anyone sitting in the front seat of his car, but also responded as if he had never heard an American speak before.   But five minutes later, after a lot of horrible Spanish and persistent hand gestures, we were laughing and he was grooving to a salsa mix CD of his I found on the center console.

Keeping with personal tradition, I waved goodbye and then immediately forgot the name of the driver.   I walked up to the door of my residence, rang the buzzer, and waited.  Getting no response I began to ponder what I would do if nobody was home when a blonde, middle aged woman ran up from behind me and let me in with a big smile and Spanish that was much too fast for me to understand.  As I turned to thank her, she walked away and  I was left standing in a long white hallway leading to a scenic tiled courtyard and a small fluffy white dog that was rapidly approaching.  I defensively set my bags down in front of me.  Called out a apprehensive hello.  Braced for perro-luggage impact aaaaaand....¿Hola, hola, hola como estás? ¡Bueno, bueno!   My host mother rounded a corner began welcoming me into her home instantly.  I set my pack and suitcase on the bed of my new room as any ounce of apprehension about my trip abroad melted away with Luís and her super-warm hearted nature (something that needs no translation at all, d'awww).

After meeting the dog, Luis and some random English speaker that was making food the kitchen (my host padre Martín wasn't around at the moment) I was pointed in the right direction and began walking the 7 blocks as directed in my email.  It was time to get to orientation! Once I had walked my prescribed blocks, I looked around for a sign that I was in the right place.  Nope.  No street signs at all.   Huh.... The funny thing is, even when you have an awesome map and directions printed out, it won't really help you if you don't know where you are in a city of 10 million people.  Regardless, I opted to continue down the street I had reached to (hopefully) a stop for the 152 bus.  Well, the good news was that I found the bus stop and was apparently in the right place.   I looked toward the street scanning for my bus with the biggest grin on my face in the world.  Scanning, scanning, 150.....2!  152!  Here comes my bus, score one Ben!  I counted my change, put away my ipod, thought about the day ahead and.....wait.....It didn't stop.  Hmmmmm.   I looked up, and was sure enough right under the sign.  My eyes followed the bus as it bounced down the street, rocketing away from me.  Looking across the street I saw a similar scene play out, except that when the bus was within range of the stop the person waved there arms as if hailing a cab.  I took the hint and got on the next bus, which only took a few minutes to arrive. 

If I didn't have a seat I am sure that I would have fell onto half the occupants of the bus that felt more like a bumper car.  Well, I went to orientation met my coordinator, learned some crucial information about the city, and made my way back home for dinner.  Met my host family over some awesome soup and slept until 2 the next day. 

A few people moved in yesterday and the house is now full.  I feel like I could stay home and have fun talking to everyone here.  Basically, I live with my host parents who only speak Spanish, two Aussies, a incredibly interesting English couple (both about 65 years old) that simply decided that they wanted to learn Spanish, that mysterious blonde girl that let me in the door, and a young, super-friendly German.   I've also already been to a super sick free concert, met a bunch of Australians and others down at the dorm-style living at my programs' HQ, and even used my Spanish quite a bit!

It's only been 3 days but it already feels like I've got a grasp on the city; At the same time, this city has infinite new things to discover every day.  Simply put, life is good. 

I'll try to toss up a blog post about once week, but no promises there.

If anyone wants to send me mail I would be super super stoked and will write you back muy rapido!   However, please don't send me anything more than a letter because it is extremely expensive to pick up and may not arrive with all of its contents. 

Ben Andresen C/O Road2Argentina

Anchorena 1676

CP1425ELL Capital Federal

Argentina

If anyone's interested, the organizations I will be working with:
Various immersion programs in Buenos Aires- http://www.road2argentina.com/ab.php
Starting next week, community work in Buenos Aires- www.voluntarioglobal.com.ar
Next month, cultural center/school in PATAGONIA!- www.cuzadapatagonica.org

¡Adiós!