Thursday, August 25, 2011

When you're really far away from home, it makes you think a lot about where you come from. 


July 11th

on the way to the international airport


Also, Texas still rules. 

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Survival mode

 currently listening Onda Vaga knows.


legendary dog walkers


Finally. Finally, finally, finally. Finalmente. Finally, I feel like I'm beginning to understand something here. I came to a sudden conclusion last week that really took me by suprise: IN BUENOS AIRES I HAVE TO SPEAK SPANISH. Naturally, for the first month or so of being in Bs.As., I was  in the "I just got here, learning spanish, heheh" phase and anytime I'd ask for a medialuna at a cafe or speak with someone on the bus, it'd always be, "Oh, I'm learning spanish" and "what was I doing in Buenos Aires anyway?" And we'd giggle. But after a while, it gets kind of old having the same conversation over and over again, especially knowing that it isn't really going to help you get any better at a language. So, last Thursday, I was sitting in Havanna sipping my typical miniature-sized coffee, and feeling pretty silly with my giant ingles-espanol/espanol-ingles diccionario on the mesa when I realized that it was time to stop pretending I had no clue what was coming out of my mouth. I know how to get a point across. Certainly, in some situations it's easier to communicate than in others. For example, my castellano is miraculously better when I speak comfortably in class with my teachers at school or when I'm having a delightfully tranquil conversation versus when the bus driver stares at me demanding directions or when my host mother gives me a blank look in response to nearly every sentence I sputter. I've realized that I think I'm starting to get it and (I daresay) Bs.As. too. It's such an interesting experience - to learn a language and its culture at the same time. Suddenly, and from where I'm not at all sure, I'm able to understand what people are saying on TV, to each other on the street, and (perhaps most importantly) what they are saying to me. It's like this wave of comprehension just came over me, and is still crashing.


Although I'm past what they call the "bright eyes" stage of studying abroad, I'm certainly still enamored with everything going on around me. I miss everyone. A lot. Especially sometimes more than others. But then I can't help but to think, damn, what a beautiful place this is and really, there's no time for looking down. Having new Argentine friends helps!


Meanwhile, I've still been exploring the streets and scenes of this place and I've taken some photos to go along.


An orange juice cart/bike in Barrio Chino
the alfajor addiction continues
a day spent at the botanical gardens; so that's where mate comes from!
Juana de Arco fashion show at Buenos Aires Fashion Week
just a cold, windy, COLD day at Puerto Madero
always miniature-sized coffee; even gas station takeout
Puerto Madero is also host to a wide variety of choripan/parilla stands
AND 2 PESO ALFAJORES, hechos de mano, the best I've ever had
there are carrousels in several different plazas around the city, but this one I really liked a lot
discovering nature at the ecological reserve
we found the beach(like setting at the ecological reserve)!
I'll always be in love with the shoreline
nature's pretty cool I guess
produce vendor at san telmo market
cute mate gourds/bombillas! still on the lookout for the one to become my own
crowd sample at the San Telmo market on sunday
inside the grand Cafe Tortoni, the oldest cafe in Buenos Aires
the Tortoni
Entryway into La Prensa, the building that hosted LA's most important early newspaper
grand salon in La Prensa
La Prensa is now a cultural center and the salon is used for tallers and exhibitions
museum days: MALBA

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Carrousel en la Feria de Emprendedores Costanera Sur


it's the city that never sleeps, and I have a funny feeling that it might be because of the sounds of the all the cars on the calle, the screeching of the breaks from the buses, some school children yelling curse words at each other in spanish, people trying to pass you flyers that you don't want, the sounds of the tiled sidewalks when there's a broken one and they clink together, rain drops bouncing off the news stands onto the old edificios, and more cars honking because someone's not following the beat, delivery boys on motorcycles revving their engines before the light, piropos that guys chant when you pass (queee linda), dogs barking, old women laughing, una pelota being passed, un beso on the cheek, cumbia coming from a radio somewhere, and without you knowing it, the sound of your own breath is lost among the sounds of the city and then you listen for it, but it's hard to hear.