Beautiful Mendoza

Sunday I got back from a very busy trip of just under two weeks. Lauren, Dimelza and I spent what seemed like months on buses, but it was worth it for the incredible places we visited. Our journey began in Mendoza, capital city of the province of the same name. Of all the Argentine cities I've seen thus far, this was by far my favorite- it's gorgeous.

The region is considered a desert, but the residents harness water from the nearby snow-peaked mountains in an irrigation system. This system supports the growth of grapes to make the famous wines of Mendoza, particularly known for its Malbecs. We got to experience this with several wine tours, accessed on rented bikes- the wine-making process is fascinating and the wine delicious of course!

The city itself also uses an irrigation system; irrigation canals line all the streets. This makes it possible for the city to be incredibly green- in the middle of the desert, the streets of Mendoza are lined with trees and there is an enormous, beautiful park. We spent a lovely afternoon walking around the (incredibly clean!) city and enjoying the bountiful green spaces.

Parque San Martín

I hope to return to Mendoza to spend more time there- in fact I think I would love to live there. I love the broad, clean avenues, the houses, and the dry desert heat. Not to mention the wine!

Taking Argentina by storm

Hello dear readers,

I have been rather silent for the last few weeks on the blogging front. This is because I have mostly been concerned with finishing up school work and haven't had too much to share. In case you are wondering, I am done with all but one of my classes (save a couple final papers to turn in...) and everything went quite well!

This quiet period, however, had been the calm before the storm. Tomorrow I am embarking on a whirlwind tour of several Argentine provinces (4, to be exact, not to mentions the others we will drive through) with my valiant companions Lauren and Dimelza. This is rather an important time for them as their time in Argentina is rapidly drawing to a close. We decided to celebrate this wonderful semester by subjecting ourselves to approximately 75 hours of bus travel spaced out over a luxurious 11 days. Please be aware that this is not, I repeat not, an exaggeration but rather an estimate that I just made in my head with my mad addition skills.

Hellish though this might sound, I'm feeling pretty sure it'll be worth it. First we're heading to Mendoza, a.k.a. Wine Country Argentina! We shall be touring wineries and partaking of the region's delights. Then the plan is to visit three national parks in three different provinces (all reasonably near to each other). This might be a little ambitious, but we'll see how it goes. Sniped from google images:

Aconcagua, home to Argentina's highest mountain peak (Mendoza Province).

Valle de la Luna (San Juan Province).
Talampaya (La Rioja Province).

Next we will travel directly from Mendoza to Posadas, in the upper eastern corner of Argentina. This trip is part of our "Indigenous Rights and the Environment" class; we will be enjoying the natural wonders of Iguazú waterfalls as well as getting to visit an indigenous community our professor works with.

We will get back from Iguazú on the 11th of December. And then, one short week later, my family comes to visit me!!!!!!!!! Perhaps you can tell that I'm a bit excited to see them. I has been far too long and I miss them like crazy; plus, I can't wait to share this beautiful country with them!

With my parents and brother I will be traveling back to Iguazú falls and also Uruguay, although we will spend most of our time in Buenos Aires; I think I'll enjoy the experience of living in Capital for a week.

Then... well let's just say I've got big plans for this summer (winter for you northern hemisphere-folks.) I'll share details when they're all ironed out but suffice it to say that I plan to continue taking Argentina by storm.

Next stop on the cathedral tour of Argentina

Yesterday I took an impromptu trip to Luján, a city close to Buenos Aires. Luján is known for its religious past: one day, many moons ago, a man was traveling with several statues of the Virgin Mary (among other goods, presumably). Then the wagon got stuck and the only way he could get it to move was by removing one particular statue, which apparently was a sign to build a giant cathedral and found a city. The city of Luján. Clearly, I'm a little skeptical about this motivation for building a city, but the overall effect is rather nice.

Unfortunately, although Luján is very close to Buenos Aires, it ended up taking 5 hours of travel each way... in the end quite the labor-intensive day trip. Nevertheless it was very fun and a very pretty city (nice call, Virgin!). I love impromptu day trips.

The Church of McDonald's. In the name of the Big Mac, the Nuggets, and the Fries, Amen.

Impressive central plaza.

Don't cry for me, America!

The time has come for me to make a rather big announcement. A thought, an idea, a temptation that I have been mulling over months has finally become reality. The very day of my arrival in Argentina it occurred to me; since then, I have been torn, going back and forth, unsure of the path I wanted to take. I made pro-con lists. I had several anguished dreams. I brought up the topic with anyone who would listen, desperate to talk it out with someone other than myself.

And now, it is decided; it is official. I will be staying in La Plata, Argentina for another semester. I will not be returning to the U.S. until July of 2011.

A few weeks ago, in fact the same day that the ex-president Néstor Kirchner passed away, I walked from my house to the central Plaza San Martín. I have walked this path dozens of times: from my door to the cultural center Pasaje Dardo Rocha is a walk of about 25 minutes. On this day, I set out in an inexplicably light-hearted mood with my camera in hand, determined to document my near-daily journey for those who don't know this city I have grown to love so much. As I took time to search for beautiful things in a familiar environment, I got to thinking about all the things that make me love the city. Although I had already more or less decided I would be staying, that day made me more convinced than ever that it was the right thing to do. I would like to invite you all to join me on my walk as I attempt to put into words the strong emotions that have compelled me to extend my stay.

Sweet public art one block from my house.

I love the colors of the city. The colors of La Plata are everywhere: in the boldly colored buses, the street art, the buildings themselves, the trees that line the streets. I love the abundance of greenery and the many plazas that dot the city.

View down my beautiful, tree-lined street.

Aloe vera plant a few blocks away from my house. We also have one right out front.

Strolling down Diagonal 74.

I love the people I have met. Largely of Italian descent, they argue politics at an ever-increasing volume; interrupting is an art form. I love that they are so involved. I love how the women dress. I love how everywhere I go, I find people willing to engage me in fascinating conversations, overlooking their (usually negative) opinions about U.S. foreign policy to reach out to a stranger. I love that they laugh with me, not at me, when I talk about my papas (potatoes) instead of my papás (parents).

Bank of the Province of Buenos Aires on Calle 7.

I love that there are more than two political parties; that there is a socialist party, a communist party, and a whole slew of others whose names I don't know. I love that my views about what's politically feasible, my views about elements of my own country's history, my views about political participation are challenged constantly through classes and conversations.

I love medialunas. I (shockingly) love the meat. I love dulce de leche. I love bizcocho cookies. I love mate, and especially the culture that surrounds it.

The main (administrative) building of the University.

I love that higher education is free and is considered a right, not a privilege.

Cuddling with a friend in my final destination: Plaza San Martín.

I love all these things about La Plata, and many more. I can keep on describing them, but I can't explain the entirety of my decision with discrete reasons. It's not as straightforward as a pro-con list. But it comes down to a pretty simple bottom line: I am happy here. I love being here. That is not to say that I love every minute of every day, and I certainly have low points, days where I miss my family, days where I just want to speak English and go to Trader Joe's. But I love it so much that the thought of leaving after just one short semester was crushing. And, much as I will miss so many people and things, I know that I have made the right choice.

Home of the Oddly-Placed Consonant

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away (from the United States) there was a president named Juan Domingo Perón. Perón was a wonderful president was a terrible, terrible man remains a fairly polarizing figure. One fact that cannot be disputed is that he built a group of large hotels on the Argentine coast, just a few hours south of Buenos Aires, and instituted reforms that made it possible for average Argentine working families to have a beach vacation. Suh-weet!

This weekend, las chicas and I had the chance to travel to Chapadmalal, Home of the Oddly-Placed Consonant and Perón's famous hotels. In fact, we even got to stay in one of those hotels! The occasion? The Comisión's annual Jóvenes y Memoria (Youth and Memory) conference. Thousands (6,000 to be precise) of high school students flocked upon Chapadmalal over the course of 15 days in turns of 3 days to display the final result of a year-long investigation project. Most of these projects were videos, and most had to do with the last dictatorship, desaparecidos, or the Malvinas War, although there were some exceptions. It was really neat to get to see so many politically involved high schoolers presenting truly impressive documentaries and plays. Eating in a dining hall with approximately 600 boisterous teenagers was also an interesting experience.

We also got to enjoy the picturesque beach of Chapadmalal, although the frigid winds and presumably frigid-er water prevented any kind of swimming monkey business. Here are some photos for your viewing pleasure:

One of the hotels.

View of the same hotel from the pier.

Alarmingly corroded concrete pier.

Enjoying some mate (particularly its warming properties) on the rocks.

That reminds me... have I not mentioned mate? Ah, the uninitiated... a blog post for another day, me thinks. Until then, some parting wisdom from Chapa 2010:

Para ser adolescente siempre, que es como vencer...
To be young forever, is how to overcome

Tastes of home

Last night I had a delicious dream. I found a special Cereal Grocery Store, with a wide and glorious selection of cereals. They didn't stock brands from the U.S. but instead made home-made versions of familiar cereals- they even featured Pretzel Cereal, an oft-discussed but still theoretical invention of Greggie's. Then I woke up and returned to the sight of the store, only to realize that the cereal bounty had been a dream. Luckily, the friendly shop owner pulled out a dusty box of cereal and suggested I try it; it didn't look promising but we enjoyed a bowl together. Sure enough it was delicious, and I was content.

Then I woke up from that dream.

It's not that the cereal here isn't good, it's just not widely consumed, there's only a few very basic options, and it comes in tiny bags, so whenever I buy some it lasts me about 2 days only. How I could go for a box of Post Great Grains: Crunchy Pecans. Yum.

I don't miss too much about the U.S., friends and family excluded. I do frequently miss familiar foods, like cereal and home-made cookies and the entirety of Trader Joe's products. To combat this, last week Lauren and I made chocolate chip cookies:


They were delicious, although turned out kind of funny-looking due to the fact that we have a gas oven and no way of ascertaining the temperature. Also they turned out very dark brown because instead of brown sugar, I found only (apparently similar ?) black sugar. Nevertheless, delicious.

Upcoming in Important Food Events: Thanksgiving Day. This is likely to be a traumatic event for me, being the first Thanksgiving I can remember being away from home for (with the exception of one year in Florida, which I can barely remember). What will I do without Nani's turkey??? How will I survive???

We are going to host a Thanksgiving dinner, as is tradition among the WM students here. Which is a little bit of an intimidating feat considering that the most I've ever contributed in the past was a pumpkin pie one year (at least I know I can make that, though!) So I would like to conclude this brief blog post with a plea: please send me any recipes you use, family secrets, tips on not setting the turkey on fire, etc. Hopefully our Argentine Día de Accion de Gracias will be a success!

Adentro!

American college students have Thirsty Thursdays. Here in La Plata, we do too- just with a little more class.

Our typical tradition is to go out to La Salamanca, a bar that has live folkloric music ever Thursday night. This music is traditional from the north of Argentina and Bolivia. From the beginning I've been astounded by the beautiful and passionate music, the proud and sensual dancing, and the delicious empanadas that La Salamanca has to offer. We go almost every Thursday, and by this point have made friends with the waiters and become competent at the dance called la chacarera.

Here is a (somewhat poor quality) example of a band we might see. This is a samba, which is a bit beyond my skill level to dance.



This is an examble of the chacarera, which I do know how to dance (although not quite this gracefully). This is also probably my favorite song; "déjame que me vaya, y que con ella muere" - let me leave, let me die with her. It's so sad and passionate.



Last night, however, we broke with tradition and went to a cultural center to see a Colombian band play. Luckily, before and after this band folkloric bands played, so we still got a chance to dance plenty of chacareras and then some Colombian cumbia - which left me totally exhausted as the general idea is to move your body as fast as you possibly can.

We also got to see a traditional and very impressive type of percussionist: boleadora. He swings two heavy, potentially deadly balls around on ropes and combines the sound of them hitting the floor with his own steps to make an mind-numbingly fast and intricate rhythm. Just watching it was exhilarating. Here's an example:



And last but not least, here is De la tierrita, the Colombian band, performing here in La Plata this weekend. I hope you enjoy this sampling of the various and wonderful music that we enjoy here. I also hope you appreciate my waking up to write this blog post after I had been out until 5 am dancing cumbia.



Note: Here's a link to De la Tierrita's myspace page if you want to listen to more of their songs: http://www.myspace.com/delatierrita

Note from a Repentant Blogger

I have a few long-overdue blog posts, and still have several in draft format that I haven't finished yet. I will hopefully be getting better at that. One thing that I would like to start doing is writing more short posts, to share an observation or a picture or a thought. In the spirit of that:

Yesterday morning the ex-president of Argentina, Néstor Kirchner, died of a heart attack. His wife, Cristina, is the current president of Argentina and he was widely favored to run for re-election for the next term. I didn't really realize how much of a popular figure he was until yesterday; the entire country seems to have entered into mourning. I went with the Peronist Youth Group of the School of Journalism to the Plaza de Mayo in Buenos Aires, where thousands of supporters gathered to show their grief and support for Cristina.

Not having a personal emotional connection to Kirchner, I was able to go as an observer, and I was amazed by what I observed. I can't really think of a similar figure in the U.S.; Bill Clinton is somewhat parallel but I can't really imagine this kind of outpouring of public emotion if he died. Perhaps it's the nature of Peronism; after all, the entire movement is named after Perón himself supporters seem to have an almost personal relationship with Perón and Evita, even though they died before many of the younger supporters were born. It's a very interesting phenomenon.

Here's a picture to give you an idea of the sheer amount of people that spontaneously gathered (excuse the poor quality):

COOOOORDOOOOOOOBAAAAAAAA

A few weeks ago, I traveled to the province of Córdoba with Lauren, Dimelza, and Gabriel. We left Thursday night, arrived Friday morning and spent four full days in the area. We spent the first day in the city of Córdoba- the capital of the province. Lauded in guidebooks for being Argentina's "second city," (whatever the heck that means-- second biggest? second best? It's unclear, and frankly kind of stupid) Córdoba is beautiful. It has a very visible colonial and Jesuit presence and is home to one of the most prestigious universities in Argentina (right up there with the University of Buenos Aires and the Univerisity of La Plata where we attend!). I really liked this city. It has the feel of a big city but the center is very compact and walkable, a contrast to the sprawl of Buenos Aires. It also has several major pedestrian-only roads in the city center, which I love. As an added perk, our hostel was in a beautiful old house run by an extremely friendly couple. The woman is from Argentina but the man is from Vermont, and it really just felt like we were staying in their home.

Note the cute fake-shadow effect in the bricks.

A working convent- the nuns still live in seclusion as they have for hundreds of years. (Well, not the same nuns, but you know what I mean. Unless it's a vampire convent, which would be kind of cool.)

The Catedral de Córdoba which is, according to wikipedia, the "oldest church in continuous service in Argentina." Construction began in 1598.

You can tell it's spring in Argentina, can't you?

On Saturday, we traveled to Alta Gracia, where we stayed the next two nights. Around Córdoba city are several valleys surrounded by beautiful sierras; each valley is home to a string of small villages accessible via picturesque roads. Alta Gracia used to be a very popular resort town for middle- and upper-class families. Now it is somewhat less fashionable but still widely visited, largely because it was the childhood home of Ernesto "Che" Guevara. Interestingly, el Che came from a fairly well-to-do middle-class background, and his family moved here when he was a young child because the climate would be better for his asthma. We visited his home, which is now a museum chronicling his life with pictures, letters, and diary entries. Incidentally we happened to go on the 43rd anniversary of his death.

The museum was very interesting and touching, although the gift shop in back seemed a little ironic- perhaps a bit too capitalist. (Much like the ever-present Che t-shirt; Spanish-speakers should check out this song "McGuevara o CheDonald's" critiquing the use of Che Guevara's image for personal monetary gain. ) For general information about el Che, I direct you to Saint Wikipedia.

Alta Gracia is also home to a giant Catholic sanctuary-thingie. It was unclear to me what it actually was. It kind of freaked me out. But nonetheless the top of the mountain offered nice views and myriad cross-photo opportunities.

Overall, Alta Gracia was a very nice, somewhat sleepy-seeming town. The other town we visited in the valley was Villa General Belgrano. This little town is, oddly enough, of German heritage and features full on Alpine kitsch. We originally intended to go to Oktoberfest, but upon learning of the high entrance fee we skipped it and just enjoyed some German food and delicious beer in a restaurant/brewery. We also enjoyed watching the drunken masses stumbling around with silly hats on.

All told, this was a wonderful weekend trip. It was our first long bus ride and our first time outside of Buenos Aires province. And it has given me the travel bug, bad!

View from the road in between Alta Gracia and Villa General Belgrano.

Cheese and Sausages and Jam, oh my!

Tandil is known for a few things:

1) Modest but pretty sierras
2) Tasty sausages
3) Tasty cheeses
4) Tasty jams
5) Tasty dulce de leche
6) Giant rocks that balance improbably on top of tiny rocks, giving the impression that they might fall and crush you at any moment.

As you might imagine, I enjoyed all of these things, but most especially items 2-5. I brought home one sample of each specialty, and let me tell you that the picnic we had the day after our arrival was a splendid thing. Mama, the delicious fuet sausage reminded me of Spain-- yum yum yum!!!

Cathedral.

Crazy balancing rock.

Dimelza and Lauren with Bettina, our saintly organizer. That day, on top of that very mountain, we had a lunch of asado-- the full works. Starting with chorizo sausage and morcilla, blood sausage (which I tried, despite knowing what it's made of. Blood, obviously). Then various cuts of meat cooked to perfection and accompanied by delightfully roasted veggies. Pure, carnivorous heaven.

I couldn't quite decide if this faux-Andalusian building was pretty or tacky.

The cold-hearted Lauren fails to save me from certain death.

Terror in a small town

The weekend of October 1-3 we went to Tandil, a small town in the province of Buenos Aires, located roughly five hours south of La Plata. The trip was part of our curriculum in human rights and memory at the Comisión, so our trip was focused around that. First we met with a group of high school students who are participating in a really cool program the Comisión organizes called Youth and Memory. The high-schoolers embark in groups on year-long research projects and present the final product at a big reunion in November (which I am excited to be going to).

We also met with a group that advocates for justice for the human rights violations perpetrated in and around Tandil specifically. We were very lucky to have a survivor of a clandestine prison talk to us and actually take us to the place where she was detained more than 30 years ago. The site is still owned by the army, which was fairly shocking after seeing all the re-appropriated and recognized camps in Buenos Aires. The land is not used for anything and the buildings are in ruins.

The gate that marks the entrance to the prison site. We had to climb over the fence- probably not strictly legal but frankly, none of us were too interested in respecting the army's private property that had been used for torture and illegal detention.

The main building, where María was held for three weeks when she was twenty years old. She was abducted from her home, brought here blindfolded and kept blindfolded the entire three weeks. Thus she did not know the site of her imprisonment until very recently, and wasn't even familiar with the entire layout of the building. Upon her release, María was told that she would be watched and to keep her mouth shut or suffer the consequences. For twenty-some years, she did just that, knowing that in the small community of Tandil she was living among her torturers and too afraid to say anything. It was amazing to me that she was willing to walk through the buildings where she was held and tortured just to share her story with us, three students from the U.S.

This is the small outbuilding where the prisoners were brought on a daily basis to be tortured.

Bettina and Dimelza as we left the site.

Another building used by the armed forces, apparently for both administrative purposes and for prisoners. I think that less is known about what exactly happened here, but it was fascinating to see such an elaborate, beautiful mansion in total ruins.

Hearing María's story and the very tangible effects of state terror on a small community was incredibly powerful. It really demonstrated the far-reaching nature of the state's terror during that period, and the effectiveness of fear as a tool of repression.

Stay tuned for a more light-hearted post--- Tandil is also a popular tourist destination, and we did lots of fun stuff!