Train Wreck

Many of you by now have probably heard of the tragic train accident del tren Once in Buenos Aires, just last week. Fifty-one passengers died and more than 600 were wounded when la Once, as the train is called, could not stop. The cause was not the fault of the conductor: the brakes on the train failed. What then ensued as the train pulled into the station was that simply because it could not stop, the train continued on until two of Newton's Laws were fulfilled. (Click HERE for an article with more information)

(These are not my photos; while I am near this Line, I was not at the time of the accident)

Given:
1. An object in motion will stay in motion and an object at rest will stay at rest unless an outside force acts upon that object.
3. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction.

Application:
1. The train had no brakes, so it kept moving (yes gravity slowed it down, but even as "slowly" as it was going, it had devastating repercussions)
2. The station was not moving.
3. The train hit the station with X amount of force, so the station had to "push" back.

Observation:
Accordion effect.

Explanation:
First and foremost the result of such an accident was magnified by the population density of the train: most people take la Once for work, as such, they are in a hurry and try to reduce travel time.

Method: crowd the first two cars, closest to the station. This cuts time walking from the end of the train to the station.

When the train hit the station and could do nothing but crumple within, the first two cars crushed each other and thus the passengers inside.

Result:
Tragic loss of human life, unnecessarily.

Leadership question: WHAT'S REALLY GOING ON HERE?

What the problem ISN'T:
-People in Buenos Aires go to bed too late at night so they wake up late and have to rush to work.
-They are lazy in getting to the station on time.
-They crowded the first two cars.
-The conductor made a mistake.
-The brakes failed.

What the problem IS:
The maintenance and overview of the safety and regulations of the train companies is not upheld honestly.

The train companies in Buenos Aires are privately owned: public transportation owned by a private sector. However, they are subsidized by the government, thus the people through taxes, in order to lower the cost.

As much as this was a tragedy in loss of human life and an exposure for the lack of communication between hospitals to inform families of the injured where their relatives were if not the morgue, it has become more of a gateway for the people to question the honesty of their government again. The people know they pay taxes, and they know that the government subsidizes the companies to maintain the trains in the public transport division, so what they demand now is an explanation as to who is responsible for this accident.

In the very beginning, I thought that that was a little bit unnecessary: after all, in an accident where the brakes failed, how can anyone be held responsible? But then, after more information was divulged - like some trains didn't even have the glass to fill the window space, or doors that closed properly, let alone properly inspected brakes (not to mention the fact that the seats are ABOMINABLE) - it is clear that there must be corruption along the line of money.

If the money isn't being used to maintain the trains, where is it going exactly? Who is leading the company and leading with ulterior motives? Should the President have to answer to these questions about a private company because the government subsidizes them? What about the CEO of the train company? People demand answers: which leader must rise to explain.

Take Away:
If you look at the seats, and the broken windows and malfunctioning doors, those are all problems you and everyone else can see. Given the status of such visible aspects, what is to be said about the internal machinery of the train?

Let that be applied to your leadership perspective, if you choose.

Angela

Sharon's Roses

This post is dedicated to my mother.

Dear Maman,

I went to the beach this weekend: Mar del Plata. It's a smaller beach city about 5.5 hours south of Buenos Aires. My friend Nikki and I left at 2:30 AM on a big charter bus and arrived around 8 AM on Saturday. The weather was horrendous; it was windy, overcast, raining, windy, storming, windy, overcast and overcast. That day, we pretty much stayed in the hostel we booked online. Nikki and I played Cribbage - she taught me how to play - and we made friends with some of the workers at the hostel and played Cribbage with them. They had no idea what the game was, nor did I, but one of our friends Ignacio got too good too fast. Needless to say, I lost. He kind of looked like a more chubby and short version of Josh Groban: it was somewhat scary.

Sunday I went to church at 9 AM. The priest was surprisingly comprehensible - he spoke slowly and distinctly and most noticeably did not have the Argentine accent. The sun was blazing in a clear sky after the storm Saturday night that I thought it would be a good day. When I left church though, the clouds had returned and the wind was picking up. And so it was the whole day. Being that we were at the beach, Nikki and I decided to brave the weather and lay out. It was basically like being in a sandstorm in Dubai. We left shortly after.

That night, we went out for a drink and a concert at a bar, had our first experience with the Argentine dance club - not my scene. Anyways, we hitched a ride in a taxi back to the hostel and went to sleep so we could get up and seize the day before our bus back to reality.

Monday came and so did the sun, and the heat, and the still air. So we hit the beach. With our sunscreen. Nikki and I laid out for about an hour or two until the clouds came back. We went out to eat for lunch and then decided to hit the road for the bus terminal - a good 40 blocks away. After getting lost (aka passing the street we needed by like 20 blocks) we finally found the terminal and arrived 1 hour before departure time. We caught the bus perfectly and were headed home.

So what I wanted to tell you most was thank you for raising me as you did: for nagging me about sunscreen all the time, for being insistent on a "cover-up", for traveling as you did and passing on that passion to me, for your fearlessness but caution in times of unpredictability that I can reflect, and for your ability to have fun and stay safe that I can also have.

On our aimless walk, I noticed several small Rose of Sharon trees: These somewhat ugly slums, dog-poop spattered sidewalks, and garbage-lined streets had the pop of color and familiarity from my childhood. They made me think of you, seeing their poor fallen flowers on the grass and dirt: how someone should be picking them up and throwing them away. I thought of the slugs that would be inside their rottingness and how it was one of the worst chores to do as a child.

But that made me smile and think of how much I am thankful for you and Daddy bringing me up the way you did. Merci.

Lela

Always Wrong

Have you ever met LoLa? Well she's the biggest wench ever.

Actually I just made her up. And "she" really isn't a "she"... more like a hermaphrodite. LoLa is a "he/she" complex; the pronouns in castellano, if you still were *le me, cross-eyed and confused. Keeping objects masculine and feminine when using them in daily conversation proved to be somewhat of a tripping stone, but I've slowly surmounted that. The main problem now is the malditos adjetivos. Describing ANYTHING is such a "pain in the neck and other parts of anatomy" (as said by Brigadier General Thomas V. Draude, USMC, USNALC, 2012). I can't get anything right. I always masculinize the feminine nouns with male adjectives and vice versa. After about 3 weeks straight of doing this, I've started to catch myself when I trip, so I sound stupid because I pause but I don't at the same time because I properly address my nouns.

There. You know about LoLa. And my incessant ire because of IT (Sorry Dr. Shivers, if you ever read this).

Now let's examine everything else I do incorrectly. Well, I sit in class, I pay attention, I participate, I raise my hand when I know the answer (#HiMom #neildoyou). (At least I raise my hand before I speak, usually I get the answer wrong). Today for example, we read part of this excerpt (aka very little) of El Avión de la Bella Durmiente by Gabriel Garcia Márquez (#elprofe), and had to invent three easily answered questions from each of four paragraphs. The teacher calls on me to choose three and read them. We'll just say in short, that the grammatical structure of 2/3 was incorrect. What the heck. And every time I try to give an explanation for why something is the way it is, they pull the old, "ehh, yeah, but, mmm, close..." trick. No. I'm wrong, Lady. Again.

It's not too motivating to experience, but at the same time it makes you realize how much you actually don't know about formal grammar. Which stinks. I have five more classes and one more week of this intensive course to get it right; then, it's for real.

Already it's wild to see the progress in my language ability, I speak with more fluidity, even if some words are still lost on me.

Other things I have done incorrectly:
-I greeted someone incorrectly today
-I gave the sign of peace incorrectly at church
-I conjugate verbs incorrectly all the time
-I used my fork incorrectly
-I put my napkin on my lap; it stays on the table

Anyways, I just wanted to let you know how my time in the classroom is going; it's like going to a class taught by Mr. and Mrs. Slowsky. Or like the internet connection at the ISA office...

Gotta go book a ticket to Mar del Plata and some hostels for this weekend. Sorry no pictures.

Angela

On Religion

How Big You Were: How Small You Are

I was sitting in church about an hour ago, looking up at the cupola, the cement walls and huge arches; the grand ceilings and simplicity of everything was perfect. I sat on the wooden pew and knelt on the wooden  kneeler and was surrounded by people.

I realized concretely in those moments, that no matter how much we know - how much we think we know - or how familiar something has been, there is always a larger meaning: a wider perspective. I was stunned as I sat there to think of how unfamiliar the service in Spanish was, even though my whole life I have attended mass. A new church, a new language, everything was strange. The same Catholic mass said today at San Benito Abad's in Palermo, Buenos Aires, was the same was was given at St. Alexis Church in Wexford, PA; was the same at St. Mary's, Marietta, OH; the same at St. Bernard-St. Mary's in Akron, OH; the same at Sacred Heart, Bloomfield, Connecticut; and the same at the St. Peter's Basilica, the Vatican. The difference is the location. But we all heard the same readings. And as many times as we hear them, when you're thrown into a different place, you find yourself sitting back and admiring the mystery of religion; the fascination of faith; and the appreciation of what you believe.

In the huge church, the voices came together in song and the resonance shook my soul. I was mute because of the language barrier and I had no music to follow, but the simple fact that I could be scared and surprised at the magnitude of what my faith could bring to me was such an enriching experience.

The astonishment of feeling the bond of religion living through each parishioner was magnified in the Sign of Peace. We would kiss on the cheek, just as the greeting custom in Buenos Aires, but the stark contrast to the Sign of Peace in the States was lucid: sometimes we don't even touch because we're afraid of spreading or catching viruses and bacteria. But that's such an insular and isolationistic habit that I've realized: love here isn't shy. Love of a brother or sister as we are all is not hidden.

I realized today through the display of passion and the love brothers and sisters have for each other that I am part of something greater. Religion isn't a transaction: it transforms you if you put yourself in the mindset that it can.

A little philosophy among my entries of jest.

Angela

All I want is...

It's those home-cravings you start to get two weeks into a trip, especially when you can't have them so easily...

Sometimes I'll be sitting at dinner with my hosts, and all I will want is a salad. All I want is ketchup with my potatoes. All I want is a big glass of milk. All I want is for the TV to be off during dinner. And all I want is is TO SPEAK ENGLISH.

But most of all, I think all I want is my clarinet. I've been hearing some awesome songs that feature the clarinet and I wince as my heart is stabbed deeper and deeper by the blade of longing. To be quite frank, I never imagined that I would miss my clarinet so much - normally I'm fine with not practicing. Perhaps it is as that axiom goes - you don't know what you have until it's gone. Well... she's gone now, and I can't have her. We'll see what I can conjure up as the semester starts, if there is a band and the possibility to rent an instrument.

I begin my third week here in Buenos Aires (I cannot believe it is already the third week!) I reflect on what I have already done and what I have yet to do. So much to do and as the sand of time trickles away it is astonishing to see how quickly it can amass and before you know it half a month is gone.

You know how when everyone goes to London, they MUST absolutely no question about it get a photo with one of these guys ?

I have done the same thing; except that it was in Buenos Aires, at La Casa Rosada, with two of them, they got to smile, and were extremely friendly. 

(dictionary.com)

friend•ly: [frend-lee] adjective 

1.

characteristic of or befitting a friend;  showing friendship: afriendly greeting.

2.

like a friend;  kind; helpful: a little friendly advice.

3.

favorably disposed; inclined to approve, help, or support: afriendly bank.

4.

not hostile or at variance; amicable: a friendly warship;friendly natives.

5.

Computers . user-friendly.

6. WHEN ARGENTINE MEN LOOK AT YOU A LONG TIME AND SEEM LIKE THEY HAVE SOMETHING ON THE TIP OF THEIR TONGUE WHEN ALL YOU DO IS ASK THEM WHERE YOU BUY TICKETS FOR A TOUR OF THE "WHITE HOUSE" OF ARGENTINA

EXAMPLE: Dear Sir, I would have been fine with a point of the finger, thank you. Using your words helps too. But, I appreciate you being so friendly... .

Photo Courtesy of the lovely lady at the center of the photo

(Mr. Friendly is the one on the left)

Now that I can check that off my bucket-list, I can go to London to do the same.

Except that I'm trying to go elsewhere at the moment... which brings me to my "To Do List".

To Do

1. Get my camera fixed.

2. Get my student visa so I can leave the country...

3. Travel to Ecuador during Spring Break

4. Plan a trip to Bariloche or Patagonia for Easter or other Feriado Weekend

5. Plan a trip to Mendoza

6. Go to the beach in Uruguay

7. Give up alfajores and Billiken and Mogul gummies for el Cuaresma (Lent)

8. Join a gym

9. Schedule all my classes as planned (<1% chance) otherwise...

...FIVE YEARS TO GRADUATE! (Damn Seal in front of the library... week two freshman year...)

10. Listen to the Pens in the Stanley Cup Finals

It is all a matter of time. 

All I want right now is ice cream. And an alfajore. And some empanadas. And maybe some mate.

Angela 

A Shot Day After Day

I saw some video on youtube of this girl that took a picture of herself every day for like four years and the video flipped through every day really fast - you could see the physical changes and her maturation throughout. I figured I would do the same thing, at least for each day I am living in Buenos Aires. Some of them I look like an idiot, some I don't, but all of that is irrelevant to the purpose of this entry. (...which might ulteriorly be to monitor my weight gain and/or loss because of the pastries and wine...) You never have to come back to this page if you don't want, but that's up to you; it might be funny to watch me balloon :)

 (yikes ^)

 (hair...)

 Double Chin For sure. Low, hard, left side.

 Ash Wednesday

 Inaugural Run

 Hair.

 22 hour bus ride from Bariloche, but I won't make excuses.

Going to a birthday party

 First day of school... it POURED.