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.