Reading my last blog entry, well, it sounds a bit naive especially since I am guilty of not following the US news as much as I should be (since I consider myself a member of the alert public and I enjoy ranting about my country to my host parents). Elections here are on Sunday (what a great idea to vote on a Sunday! why is it not like this in the States? Also here you are not allowed to by alcohol on voting day...). I spoke to some people at CLAYSS about it they were complaining about the polls that project that Kristina will win...similar problem in our country that polls can influence the public´s perception...anyway:
A few interesting things to report....
I will be making a documentary for my doc film class with a few other Americans (I still use this term with hestitation since here one of the many reasons Argentines, and Latin Americans for that matter dislike yanquis is because of our arrogance and that we would call ourselves "Americans" without consideration for the rest of the Americas), and I will be directing. My proposal or treatment is about a particular plaque that the same group placed that is responsible for the plaque of my host mother´s first husband (read and earlier post that talks about that) that is in the entrance to the subway stop in a very busy area. My idea it to interview people from the organization, los Vecinos de Almagro and Balvanera and to interview people passing by this location, asking about collective memory essentially (this is a simplified explanation). Anyway, my host parents are a wonderful resource; they have really given me a unique experience here.
My Spanish, as I said earlier is getting better and better, and people here have been telling me that too. Which is like, "heck yes!" I feel very happy (but not necessarily certain) that I will have this second language for a long time. How wonderful to know that I will have an easier time connecting with other people cross cultural lines.
I met a girl last night named Almendra, which means almond (she told me that her parents were hippies) who had a little bit of English, but for the most part we spoke in Spanish about why Latin Americans don´t like yanquis. We were at a bar, called the Alamo, a favorite of North and South Americans, to watch the Red Sox game. Needless to say the bar was full of rowdy Red Sox fans, perhaps a redundant statement, and we could agree on having a distaste for a certain type of American, the drunk, rowdy type. The type that hasn´t necessarily had to be aware of their surroundings nor be culturally sensitive. We are not all like that of course, and Argentines, although civil in their sports watching can be just as rowdy about soccer as our lovely baseball fans.
What else...I found out that the maid that comes here about four times a week is actually still in high school and travels more than two hours to get here. As someone said, it is probably not a question whether she has to work or not. She does go to school. She is really nice and I try my hardest to be as respectful to her and ask that she doesn´t really do anything in my room. Is that insensitive or rude? My rationale: I´d rather be considered a peer than an authority by her.
I chatted online to my friend Danny today who is in St. Petersburg for the semester. It was interesting talking about our experiences, very different, especially since he is Russian, but still sharing the struggle to adjust and the admiration for our the respective cultures we are in. We both seem to agree that people are generally more connected vis a vis friendships and the human connection. My father told me when he was here that the hardest thing for him when he came back from India in the late sixties after being there for seven months, was the culture shock of the United States and how people relate to each other there versus in India, or Argentina or even Russia. There is a social code of conduct, reminds me a bit of the solidarity amongst New Yorkers, that people treat each other here with respect and treat strangers as friends. People are aware of one another and even though I am yanqui through and through, they show visitors here the utmost respect so as to give a good impression...or maybe because despite everything our country has done, they can still muster respect for any human no matter where they come from.
Friday, October 26, 2007
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
My parents just left after visiting me here for nine days. We had a good time, hung out and ate at good restaurants and I tried to show them as much of the city as I could. It was weird being a guide, and showing a city that I only have known for three months, but it was good because I felt adjusted to my surroundings and like I really knew Buenos Aires. What a relief!
The first two months were hard, I can say now, since it has gotten easier, and now I don´t feel like such a martian. I am a lot less self-conscious in the streets, interacting with other people, perhaps this mainly because my Spanish has improved tremendously. I don´t think as much about how what I want to say, words come so much more easily.
When my parents were here, it was interesting to see their reactions to the culture, especially the poverty...being from San Francisco I thought they were used to the presence of homelessness, but the children who beg all over the city, you see every day, drive home the feeling of being in a poor country. We saw this seven year old girl toting an accordian, playing and asking for money, she walked like a middle aged woman. The children who beg in general walk and talk much older than they are.
I´ve thought a lot about the US here and it how we pride ourselves on our level of development, but goddamn, our country has so many poor people, and as the gap widens between rich and poor, our politicians still pretend to cater to the middle class. It feels like our society is on its way to becoming a lot like a one with a developing economy.
No one here really trusts the government, especially the vast middle class. As the presidential election nears, everyone accepts that the current president, Kirschner´s wife, Kristina will win. She has the most money and the most botox of all the candidates. It isn´t really clear what her values are, in this sense, the candidates don´t take platforms, her posters say ¨we know what we need, we can do it together...¨something like that, very vague.
This sounds a lot like a certain situation in our country: people accept that Hilary will win (although I haven´t) and why is it this way? And what does she believe anyway? What is she going to do for our messed up country? Somehow I just don´t know....nor can I trust her.
Can we be candid about the crooks, the corruption, or are we pretending as we lie in the hammock of comfortable capitalism...dreaming that we still have a true democracy (that we ever did)?
Being here, seeing how the people relate to their government (with a lot of trepidation), makes me more and more and more critical of my own government. Bush recently vetoed an iniciative that was going to provide for poor children! Poor children! No child left behind actually means the US could care less about poor children. Unbelievable. This war must end, this administration must change and my faith in America must be restored.
The first two months were hard, I can say now, since it has gotten easier, and now I don´t feel like such a martian. I am a lot less self-conscious in the streets, interacting with other people, perhaps this mainly because my Spanish has improved tremendously. I don´t think as much about how what I want to say, words come so much more easily.
When my parents were here, it was interesting to see their reactions to the culture, especially the poverty...being from San Francisco I thought they were used to the presence of homelessness, but the children who beg all over the city, you see every day, drive home the feeling of being in a poor country. We saw this seven year old girl toting an accordian, playing and asking for money, she walked like a middle aged woman. The children who beg in general walk and talk much older than they are.
I´ve thought a lot about the US here and it how we pride ourselves on our level of development, but goddamn, our country has so many poor people, and as the gap widens between rich and poor, our politicians still pretend to cater to the middle class. It feels like our society is on its way to becoming a lot like a one with a developing economy.
No one here really trusts the government, especially the vast middle class. As the presidential election nears, everyone accepts that the current president, Kirschner´s wife, Kristina will win. She has the most money and the most botox of all the candidates. It isn´t really clear what her values are, in this sense, the candidates don´t take platforms, her posters say ¨we know what we need, we can do it together...¨something like that, very vague.
This sounds a lot like a certain situation in our country: people accept that Hilary will win (although I haven´t) and why is it this way? And what does she believe anyway? What is she going to do for our messed up country? Somehow I just don´t know....nor can I trust her.
Can we be candid about the crooks, the corruption, or are we pretending as we lie in the hammock of comfortable capitalism...dreaming that we still have a true democracy (that we ever did)?
Being here, seeing how the people relate to their government (with a lot of trepidation), makes me more and more and more critical of my own government. Bush recently vetoed an iniciative that was going to provide for poor children! Poor children! No child left behind actually means the US could care less about poor children. Unbelievable. This war must end, this administration must change and my faith in America must be restored.
Friday, October 12, 2007
Solidaridad
I just started volunteering for this organization CLAYSS (Centro latinoamericano de aprendizaje y servicio solidario) which promotes service learning in Latin America. The way they talk to us about service learning is interesting because it seems like Argentines don't think we Americans know what it is. It is a newer concept among educators in America and maybe it is because of where I come from (hippy-dippiness), but I felt very familiar with the subject. This type of education works well here because it promotes leadership, self-motivation, problem solving, etc. Perhaps is the solution to that banking style of education that our friend Paulo Freire talks about.
Also exists a very different concept of what the word solidarity or "solidaridad" means, and this too they like to flaunt in Americans faces like we have no clue as to what this word means in Spanish. Well, they're right. Solidarity here means any action with the community, any good work done to help society. For me, in English that word brings to mind images of that idealistic, Marxist kid with a silkscreened hammer and sickle on his studded sweatshirt. It makes me think of radicalism. Also I think of the magazine that my parents get in the mail from some union or other (not sure which one), which is called "Solidarity."
Anyway, I think what doesn't translate is this universalist, human interconnectedness that is felt amongst people here, since life here (not for all, but for most) is considered a struggle, for the most part because life is not secure, things change, money becomes unavailable, you step in dog shit now and then. Solidaridad in Spanish could mean for us could mean community service, but it isn't isolated or compartmentalized here nor does it have conotations. As with "tranquilidad," Americans don't really live in a society in which "solidaridad" can exist. This isn't a sad thing, just different, although I wish Americans could live in a more interconnected way, in the sense that empathy wasn't a trait, but a way of life.
Also exists a very different concept of what the word solidarity or "solidaridad" means, and this too they like to flaunt in Americans faces like we have no clue as to what this word means in Spanish. Well, they're right. Solidarity here means any action with the community, any good work done to help society. For me, in English that word brings to mind images of that idealistic, Marxist kid with a silkscreened hammer and sickle on his studded sweatshirt. It makes me think of radicalism. Also I think of the magazine that my parents get in the mail from some union or other (not sure which one), which is called "Solidarity."
Anyway, I think what doesn't translate is this universalist, human interconnectedness that is felt amongst people here, since life here (not for all, but for most) is considered a struggle, for the most part because life is not secure, things change, money becomes unavailable, you step in dog shit now and then. Solidaridad in Spanish could mean for us could mean community service, but it isn't isolated or compartmentalized here nor does it have conotations. As with "tranquilidad," Americans don't really live in a society in which "solidaridad" can exist. This isn't a sad thing, just different, although I wish Americans could live in a more interconnected way, in the sense that empathy wasn't a trait, but a way of life.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Sunday, October 7, 2007
Things I Will Miss
There are plenty of American things I miss being in Argentina. But I've been thinking, as I've reached close to my half-way mark, that there are many things that I will miss about this culture. As I've said, the Argentines are terribly refined. It isn't terrible though. It is just over the top for someone who comes from such a society as my own. When you go to have a coffee here, with a friend, or just to have a coffee, no matter the casualness of the situation, no one cares, you will be brought: your coffee, a small glass of water, a couple of sweets (small cookies), and sugar. It is a process, it is a celebration, or rather a moment to enjoy yourself. Eating here is not really the point, rather it is the company you share, and that you will be relaxed as you do so. The McDonalds here has a McCafe, a wonderful invention, a great cafe, with waiters, clean bathrooms, good coffee. Something like this wouldn't really fly in the States. This is why I don't think that Starbucks has infiltrated (there is NO Starbucks here), because they have no use for the coffee to go. This bothered me at first, but it makes me realize that perhaps it is better to sit and have your coffee, to be here now, to be aware of what you are doing as you are doing it. And be "tranqui" or "tranquilo," this is said a lot, especially to us Americans who are not. I can't really translate this word, although I'm sure you understand the literal meaning, because I don't think in the States we have it in us or our society isn't tailored for such a word to exist.
Bus Ride Stream of Consciousness
Today, I pulled myself out of bed. I don't like sleeping into the afternoon because I miss the daylight. The days are getting more beautiful here as spring has sprung. They say that argentines "viven entre la rezaca y la responsibilidad." Which is to say they live between a hangover and responsibility. It has more of a ring to it in Spanish.
So I took responsibility, and got on the bus to meet a friend in the botanical gardens. It was a rough, too bright walk to the bus, and I got a seat which was a good thing. The buses here are wonderfully dangerous. It hard to hold your ground if standing. The buses swerve and hastily move through the streets, they barely stop for you to get on: if you are the only one getting on at the stop and it is a green light, you are sure to have to jump swiftly onto the bus to catch your ride. It hardly feels unsafe, the porteños have it down to a science: as they move through the busy streets or the subway, they aptly keep their bodies to themselves, they move with a lot of grace.
After I sat down, a large man, with a graying beard and two sets of eyeglasses sat next to me, whistling. This isn't odd here. Men sing on the streets all the time. Not really to themselves, and it isn't humming, but singing. Like Gene Kelley. Of course it strikes me as a little odd, as my American sensibility tells me that this man is invading my personal space, but I let it go. He continued whistling and we must of passed a church or a nun or something (qué sé yo?) and he crossed himself to the rhythm of his tune. I guess the strangest part was that towards the end, and I wondered if this was directed at me, he began to sing a familiar song. The Star Spangled Banner. How odd. I wondered if he knew I was American and he was jabbing at me, but again I had to catch my American-selfishness or rather, my self-consciousness of being American, and think that this man was probably whistling just to whistle. Just to enjoy the day and pass the bus ride.
So I took responsibility, and got on the bus to meet a friend in the botanical gardens. It was a rough, too bright walk to the bus, and I got a seat which was a good thing. The buses here are wonderfully dangerous. It hard to hold your ground if standing. The buses swerve and hastily move through the streets, they barely stop for you to get on: if you are the only one getting on at the stop and it is a green light, you are sure to have to jump swiftly onto the bus to catch your ride. It hardly feels unsafe, the porteños have it down to a science: as they move through the busy streets or the subway, they aptly keep their bodies to themselves, they move with a lot of grace.
After I sat down, a large man, with a graying beard and two sets of eyeglasses sat next to me, whistling. This isn't odd here. Men sing on the streets all the time. Not really to themselves, and it isn't humming, but singing. Like Gene Kelley. Of course it strikes me as a little odd, as my American sensibility tells me that this man is invading my personal space, but I let it go. He continued whistling and we must of passed a church or a nun or something (qué sé yo?) and he crossed himself to the rhythm of his tune. I guess the strangest part was that towards the end, and I wondered if this was directed at me, he began to sing a familiar song. The Star Spangled Banner. How odd. I wondered if he knew I was American and he was jabbing at me, but again I had to catch my American-selfishness or rather, my self-consciousness of being American, and think that this man was probably whistling just to whistle. Just to enjoy the day and pass the bus ride.
Thursday, October 4, 2007
It has been too long....
I was in Cordoba last week. It is a landlocked province, a 12 hour bus ride from Capital Federal. We went swimming in these amazing rivers (pictured). The water was chilly, but it was hot and worth it. We took hikes along terrain such as this one and walked on an ancient aquaduct, that still has a maintained form. The people, los cordobeses, were extremely nice to us. I imagine they are used to the tourism, in general people seemed happier than they did in Jujuy. The climate there was more arid, farther from the city. Perhaps this is why I think this. We rode horses, which I have actually never done. I got to ride a horse that looked as much like a hippy as I do, with these strange hand made stir-ups that a child had decorated. We rode out on these rodes where there was little human presence. And just miles of green hills. Reminded me a little of my second home in Ohio. It is funny how much I can be reminded of things from home that I know so well in this far off place.
The highlight of the trip was the Museo Rocsen (pictured). A museum founded by a Frenchman, Rocsen, in the 1950s in Nono, Argentina. It is just his collection of stuff. It is rooms and rooms filled with various collections of geos, bicycles, clothing, bones, birds, beetles, cameras, car engines, whatever your heart desires. And the facade of the building is this row of 30 some statues of historical figures, arranged chronologically. That's Jesus pictured there in middle. Buddha's in there, the last one is Martin Luther King Jr. It was a pleasure. And if you ever have the chance it is worth the bus ride to see this unknown, but incredible museum in Nono.
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