Oye, LEAD 203

This here, is for you.

My days accumulate and my comfort in asking about politics increases, positively correlated to my curiosity. The news is on all day basically, if it's not music videos that my hostess is watching. Passing through the city by colectivo, by subte, or on foot, political activism is blatant.

Protest/ Challenge Banners posted in the famous Plaza de Mayo: the location where the mothers of the desaparecidos from the Guerra Sucia used to go to demand of the government (during the military dictatorship) the return of their sons and daughters. Now, they continue to go every Thursday at 4 PM and protest in the same fashion, for the same thing. Plaza de Mayo is directly in front of La Casa Rosada, which is where the President works. (Casa Rosada = Pink House...)

Graffiti near Plaza de Mayo. (Unfortunately some of these words are slang/shorthand, so I don't understand them, but you can clearly see on the left that it says "Nestor Vive" - Nestor Lives - and Evita's name at the bottom) Obviously with political intention. Government buildings throughout the city have graffiti all over them with regards to student protests, Evita, Nestor etc.

TALKING ABOUT LAS MALVINAS: CUIDADO
The issue with Las Malvinas (Falkland Islands) is escalating between Argentina and Great Britain. Argentina wants to have sovereignty over the islands, the colonialism Great Britain displays is long turned sour, and the Argentine's want them back. There was the Falkland Islands War about 30 years ago that ended badly for Argentina, and this resurgence of nationalism is increasing, especially seen through manifestations- protests where veterans of the war and other supporters band together and push for more talks and greater emphasis on reclaiming the islands.

This photo of a poster promoting the desired Argentine sovereignty over Las Malvinas in the foyer to the Casa Rosada. It is quite the topic of news lately. I attempted to go for a tour, but it was a spontaneous decision and would have taken too much of the daylight that had previously been reserved for market eye-shopping (aka not buying anything yet...). Surprisingly, it was easy to get into the Casa Rosada, a simple x-ray machine for my purse and a metal detecting archway for myself. The President doesn't actually live there, but, I didn't know at the time, she was in the office. There is a flag on the top of the house that is raised when the President is in La Casa Rosada (I found that out at home later).

(The flag is tiny, but it's pole is directly behind that of the one in the foreground and the flag is raised. Photo taken from la Plaza de Mayo.)


US EMBASSY VS DECEASED DICTATOR
If you've read my entry "Attention Getters", you know about the US Embassy coming and talking to my class. I have a story I'd like to pass on that the Diplomat shared. He recounted something that he was working on earlier that morning: a bar fight between an Argentine and a US citizen (obviously, because he was a victim of a crime abroad, he needed help from home). So, basically these two guys get into it, unfortunately for the US citizen ...

Interjection: I will now stay away from saying "American" because Argentine's and other South American's get offended that we say we're "American" exclusively meaning "US Citizens". The reason? Aren't they from "America" too?
Now back to the US citizen, the poor guy...

he became involved with a rugby player in some kind of tiff. The rugby player allegedly grabbed a beer glass and smashed it on the US guy's face/neck almost cutting the jugular vein. Therein was the crime. Naturally it would seem easy to press charges against this man for cracking a glass in a guy's face, but it isn't. The US Embassy is doing what they can to protect the US tourist, but the rugby player turned out to be the grandson of a dictator from Argentina's military government and the Dirty War. Argentina is protecting the player from charges because of his government connections and legacy, even though the Dirty War is condemned as wrong and inhumane.

Where is the ethical leadership of the government! How can this player be protected from justice with such infamous connections to the Dirty War: it seems to expose the government of Argentina in a compromising light, almost of corruption. This residual power is strongly opposed by the US Embassy in this case. Alarming at the root of this, is that it wouldn't matter whether or not the victim was a US citizen or not; the mere fact that this assailant is protected because of Dirty War power is astonishing. Sounds a bit like coercive power* to me. #FrenchandRavensTaxonomy


IT'S UP TO YOU, AND YOU, AND YOU: POWER TO THE YOUTH
My intensive Spanish teacher is pretty young. Probably 35 at most. We got to talking about politics in class the other day, comparing what life is like in the US and what it is like in BsAs specifically, and she was pretty emphatic on her opinion about political activism.

I guess I'll act as the facilitator here, and pass on some brain stimulation. Here is what she said:

...with regards to their president, Cristina Fernández de Kirchner, and then generalizing to all presidents of any country
"Es un presidente por lo que hace." (They are president for what they do.)
She was shocked that so many US students that she saw studying abroad wearing shirts emblazoned with the name of presidential candidates BEFORE they were elected president; she asked the students, why do you wear a shirt that supports the candidate, they haven't DONE anything yet!

...a personal charge to each student
"Tienen que luchar para hacerse un país más justo." (You must fight to make yourselves a more just country.)
We were talking about college, and how the University of Buenos Aires is a free university; yes, the students DO NOT have to pay. Of course they must be accepted, but it is free. We also discussed socialized healthcare, and how healthcare is also free in Argentina. (Mind you, there are taxes that must be paid, but the government takes care of the healthcare bill.) She was beside herself that US citizens had to pay taxes and $40.000 for school and healthcare bills! So, she charged us that we must fight, the youth of our country must gather together and challenge the government with what we want. It's pretty empowering to hear this and the stimulation is motivating to make change.
Leadership*: Observe the situation. See if you need to take action or sit back and watch.

#HailPeterNorthouse

Angela

Attention Getters

Here's a post that will be full of random facts that have nothing to do with anything in particular but everything to do with anything at all (and also continually updated). After all, if among the sensory overload the city causes me these pieces of information stuck out, they must be kind of interesting... . So here.

-In class: Teacher says, oh you remember that time there was the cholera outbreak here..... (everyone nods)..... What?!

-Men in children's bodies: There were two men at the zoo, waiting outside with these miniature horses to give rides to kids, and they had a water fight. Except, it wasn't water: They chased each other around with soda bottles and sprayed the soda on each other. Guys in their late 40s or 50s.

-Riding the bus back from Mar del Plata was incredible for a reason other than the fact that we were going about 40 on the highway - there was a huge lightning storm across the entire horizon for about 5 hours. I felt like I was in the middle of the African grasslands, except on a coach bus in Argentina...

-The snoring man that is sleeping 3 feet from you in a hostel that you wish you could just push.

-We've heard of the persistent Argentine Man. The one that doesn't go away, where you, as an uninterested party, must READ THE WARNING LABEL that is DISGUISED AS HARMLESS FLIRTING and EVACUATE YOURSELF AND ALL ASSOCIATES from the situation. They come on hard when you least expect it, so be ready. And at all times, remain in the public's eye. It doesn't matter your situation: if you're single, if you're not, if you're going home soon, if you're staying out, if you're drunk, if you're sober, if you're touring, if you're studying abroad, or if you're living with the guy's friend. Alertness, just as for situations of crime is critical.

-Buenos Aires was useful to explorers for pretty much no other reason (in the early times) than it being an easy port to transport Bolivian Silver back to Europe by avoiding the trans-Panama trip and Caribbean Pirates.

-Una Película Pochoclera is a funny and light movie. 

If: Película = movie

And: Pochoclo = popcorn

Then: Película Pochoclera is a "Popcorny Movie"

-When the construction workers, taxi drivers, and people on the street hoot and holler at the ladies, many times the comments are about meat. But like, they call you a nice cut of meat. I have yet to distinguish really what these chamuyos say to me, as they prefer to mumble and whistle or cat call more. Here are some common (and really good) piropos - pick up lines - that my teacher revealed to us:

"¡Qué lomo que tiene!"

"What a nice ass you have" (BEST cut of meat from a cow)

"Me gustaría ser papa frita para acompañar ese lomo"

"I would like to be a french fry to accompany that piece of meat."

"...carne de exportación."

"...meat for export." (Argentine's do not actually eat the best part of the cow - they have that cut of meat shipped for export to mainly Europe; so again, the men call you an excellent cut of meat from a cow. Thanks, che.)

[Caveat: USE COMMON SENSE IN A CITY YOU ARE UNFAMILIAR WITH]

The Diplomat from the United States Embassy came to talk to a group of students and kindly informed us that "Buenos Aires has the HIGHEST crime rate that the State Department can give a place, save for an ACTIVE WAR ZONE. 

-basically it's important to follow advice and not go where it is recommended you not go AND follow common sense... . 

BsAs: A Machine's-Eye View

Expectation vs. Reality

This will be an ever-changing entry serving as a compilation of expectations and myths versus the reality from my experiences. Sunday February 12th was the day of inspiration and theCHIVE made my title. Welcome to the brief snippets of Culture Shock in a city and in a Latin American country.

MESHING INTO STYLE
2/3/2012
Expectation: Never look Argentine - they have a bit of a wild style
Reality: Of the many pamphlets handed out on the streets, being handed one for a "descuento en cursos regulares de Ingles" (discount for regular English courses) was a bit of a boost. Maybe I do look Argentine in my white dress, wedge sandals and long-ish hair after all...
OLD MEN
23/2/2012
Expectation: Sweet old men, walking the streets by themselves in the robust afternoon
Reality: Walking the streets by themselves in the robust afternoon and wind up and kick that damn pigeon. (WHAT!?)
NAVIGATING MY UNIVERSITY'S WEBSITE
28/2/2012 (And every time I try)
Expectation: Be able to find where the COURSE OFFERINGS and SCHEDULES are.
Reality: Being *le me and not being able to maneuver any page on the site correctly.
MEETING ARGENTINES (AND NOT
26/2/2012
Expectation: Say bye politely to Argentine 20-some-year olds that I've never met.
Reality: Kisses all around; we like it.
SHOPPING FOR CLOTHES
18/2/2012
Expectation: For sure a size 36 is going to fit me, I'm a 2 or 26/27: *le me holding it up for size*
Reality: You're not Latina but your ass sure can't fit into a 36: automatically sentenced to size 40+. I couldn't even get the sizing information out of the salesman, except that a 36 is a Small. *Thank you I can see that it's SMALL now HOW do I know what I'll fit into without trying on every SINGLE SHIRT YOU HAVE.
INSTEAD OF A BAR
17/2/2012
Expectation: No drinking of open containers in public places.
Reality: Whatever. Oh, why hello there Federal Police Officer.

AT THE MOVIES
15/2/12
Expectation: Paying and arm and a leg just like in the US.
Reality: Forking over less than $2.00 US (6 Pesos) for a movie.
ON THE BUS

15/2/12

Expectation: ???

Reality: Mothers breast feeding infants - no blanket required.

CHURCH

12/2/12

Expectation: Go to church and know somewhat where you are in the service.

Reality: Probably stand up during the prayer for recent widows. (I still don't know why only some ladies stood up... The only thing I understood was when we said the Our Father, which I mumbled in English, and "La Paz" which is the sign of peace.)

[This occurrence gave me the idea to chronicle my embarrassments, my disappointments, and most importantly my moments of naïvety and culture shock.]

OUT ON THE TOWN

11/2/12

Expectation: Outing with friends at night leads to lovely stroll through the streets (all male friends so assault level: LOW)

Reality: Outing with friends at night in a long green maxi dress leads to dragging the bottom of it over scurrying cockroaches on sidewalk and subsequent gagging.

FLUENCY AND DOMINANCE OF LANGUAGE

9/2/12

Myth: You are fluent in a language when you dream in that language.

Reality: See 12/2/12 (Below)

LIFE IN A CITY
6/2/12
Expectation: Walking with head up on sidewalk admiring the sites.
Reality: Walking with head down on sidewalk to avoid dog poop and cat call acknowledgement.

First and Twenty-three

This entry is for my dear friend Kaitlin, who provides candles so I can help make videos of illuminated laughing skulls instead of studying for anatomy practicals.

I have this urge now to write in Spanish - it's a sort of tick my fingers have; my thoughts are often in Spanish; my prayers sometimes are; once, I even dreamt in Spanish (THAT <- was bizarre). Here's to the first week, a resúmen of the goings-on. (I missed the All-American tradition of the Superbowl... so the title is a tribute to that. I don't even know if 1st and 23 happened then. Oh well. You understand my point.)

Towards the beginning of this week, I had trouble sleeping the night. I attribute that not to being away from home, but rather throwing my body into this shock - like heat-shocking bacteria - and dealing with 35 degree weather to dealing with 100+ degree weather. The humidity here the first few days was impeccable: almost surreal. Walking along one of the main avenues la Avenida Cabildo I seriously felt like I was in an enormous Finnish sweat-house (#bezzerwizzer s/o @Joey, @Jonathan, @René, @Margaret, @Brian). But it felt incredible to wear shorts and a tank top; flip flops and sunglasses and being originally from Connecticut, I didn't mind the moisture.

Anyways, to continue with my overly scientific metaphor of considering myself a bacterium that has been heat-shocked, we'll just go with it. I have acculturated pretty well so far, I think (not to mount the high horse; My High Horse (On the left)); I would attribute it scientifically to this process of heat-shock. It basically means that you put a culture of bacteria in a hot water bath and then a cold water bath and then again in hot water for specific periods of time and this change of temperature causes a shock to the cell which allows the passage of foreign material through the membrane (that would otherwise be impenetrable). This is done sometimes to add a sequence of DNA that the scientist is interested in observing through its manifestation (or lack there of). Hopefully my metaphor makes more sense now. If not, here it is straight up: I'm being changed in my perspectives and opinions by this experience day by day because of this shock. Although to be completely frank, I don't think it is quite a shock I feel, although that's probably because I'm still in a honeymoon stage of being enamored by everything - even though I can tell you many things that don't sit well with me. However, I am continually reminding myself that things are not good or bad they are just different.

I got lost a few times the first couple of days, but now I think I have myself pretty much oriented as to how streets intersect and the like: the next challenge is public transportation. I had a bit of experience  this Thursday as I went downtown to get a criminal background check for the Republic of Argentina: they determined I was fit for deportation. So now I'm back home.

I'm kidding. It's the first step towards getting a student visa thus mandatory to simply have documentation. So my host Eduardo and I got on el colectivo (bus) on Thursday morning around 7 AM to hitch a ride to the Subte (subway) that would take us all the way up Cabildo to La Plaza de Mayo and La Casa Rosada (the Pink House... like the White House...). Everything went smoothly with that and my fears of being able to do the traveling on my own was abated. Until that night when I had to do it alone. ISA had scheduled the group to have our first lesson in Tango. It was grand. Absolutely grand. I had a wonderful time and cannot wait to take the class for credit once the semester actually starts. Sooo about getting to the class... . BAM. Whipped out my handy-dandy METROGUÍA and looked up the street I needed to get to and which buses I could take, walked myself to the corner where I knew buses came and went and looked for the stop. (1.5 hours ahead of schedule). Found the stop. Stood. Waited. Waited. Waited. Waited. SAW THE BUS. Hailed it. Hopped on. Asked if they went "there". "NO". Oh. Got off. Waited. Waited. SAW ANOTHER. Hailed. Hopped on. Asked. "NO". Oh. Got off. Waited. Waited. Waited. Waited. Waited. SAW ANOTHER. Hailed. Hopped on. Asked. "NO - go on the OTHER side of the street to catch bus 15 going the way you want :) ". Oh. OH. OH. 

Got off. Waited. Crossed street. Waited. Waited. Waited. Then finally this girl helped me out, we hailed the next bus, asked if it went to la Avenida Scalabrini Ortiz. Yes. (JACKPOT). Hopped on. Sat down. 

This girl's name was not Mafalda, although I rather like that name and she will be referred as such. She seemed to be studying in Belgrano but she never said what. She spoke English pretty well although we conversed more in Spanish. She was wearing a peculiar (whenever I say peculiar I think of Alice in Wonderland; have no idea why) outfit, old rose (very fashionable) but it was like a light grey satin bottom with the old rose top dress (?) and grey flats. She had wild blue eye-shadow that was just wretched, but what do I really know of the BsAs make-up fashion for 2012. So Mafalda and I were talking, she lives in Palermo and would not say where after I did, just a street name but still. Seemed rather suspicious to me. (Hand over the purse of course.) We exchanged telephone numbers after some difficulty and said maybe we'd see each other around and go shopping at the outlets. Okay, chau. No problem, although I felt a little uneasy about Mafalda later, thinking of her tacky outfit, her 70s makeup and her rather worn shopping bag. I started to wonder.... but no need for that. A lesson learned for reservations in conversation with strangers.

Week one of intensive Spanish class is under my belt, that is likely expanding from all the empanadas I have been eating lately; 4 hours of class a day, and an added 45 minute recreo period broken into a 15 minute and 30 minute break. Five hours is a long time; I find my mind wandering to my watch at times and I will remember middle school - how every class was 49 minutes or so - I would get over four classes in in this period of time that I am devoting solely to learning Spanish. So somehow it goes by relatively quickly, but that might be because I look at the cityscape that sprawls out before us on the 10th floor of this building. I have found myself increasingly successful at comprehension of oral Spanish, but written Spanish trips me up on transition phrases. As for my oral part, I will proceed to make a fool of myself speaking tonight when I meet Andy's friends. We are about to get started... it is midnight. And I have an ISA excursion tomorrow all day at El Tigre which is a delta about 45 minutes north from the University (I just opened about 3 new Safari browser windows because I pressed Command + "n" for the " ˜ " instead of Option + "n"). Hopefully with a little warmth in the veins I'll be able to be as suava as the porteños themselves. This is definitely something I looked forward to before arriving - was meeting the locals my age and actually making friends.

I've been around people so much here - obviously this gigantic city is going to have that quality - that I just need a TIME-OUT every once in a while. Like now. At midnight. But, when in Rome... especially a city that never sleeps... . This is all part of the experience. Doing things like this, making plans or being spontaneous. Dealing with fatigue because of an opportunity that shouldn't be rejected. If I rejected this offer to go out, I would likely close off any other chance to do so - and that is most certainly the antithesis of this trip. I want to meet people. I want to talk to them and the only way I can get actual interaction other than the lady at the grocery store check out or the mozo that serves us at a restaurant is to do things like this. (Before all my classes with locals start).

So, Cheers to that; Cheers to you; Cheers to health; Cheers to love; Cheers to money; and Cheers to time to enjoy them all.

Angela

ps. I will be editing this post and working on uploading photos to this here blog. Otherwise you are referred to my facebook photo album: "When in Rome: Argentine Style". Gracias.

pps. I am maneuvering this blog site in Spanish, and I admit there are quite a few words I don't know, so trying to set up a gadget on here that syncs Photobucket or Flickr is just not cooperating. I swear I'm trying.

Entrada En Español

Bueno, este publicado es para mi y para los quien puedan leer en español. Estoy sentada en una de los múltiples heladerías en la ciudad de BsAs usando el WiFi que es tan accesible acá. Ya puedo sentir el cambio en mi vida - la ciudad no me asusta, los caballeros no me molestan tanto, y la comida y el estilo de vida me encanta.

Mi familia es bastante interesante, nos sentamos alrededor de la mesa en la sala de comer algunas veces para charlar de cualquier cosa y la practica para mi es muy bien. Ya que puedo sentir los cambios en mi vida, los puedo oír en mi español también. Mi acento argentino ya me viene - eso es emocionante seguramente.

Este helado era tan rica y chiquitita... los dulces acá me matan. O sea, tengo que tener cuidado. Mucho cuidado. Con esto, me estoy familiarizando con los calles, por cual dirección vayan etc etc, y para ir a la UB, mi casa, la heladería (en la esquina) no tengo que sacar mi mapa. Un paso a la vez.

Cuando camino por los calles, Avenida Cabildo en particular, presto mucho atención a los negocios de ropa. Intento aprender como es el estilo de las damas para que pueda pasar más por mujer argentina. Ya los caballeros gritan y todo, pero no los miro y no pasa nada. Me molestaba ayer y anteayer, pero a la misma vez, es parte de la cultura de BsAs y no hay nada que se puede hacer más que evitar contacto con los ojos y una entendimiento abierto de la llamada.

ISA y MC me han preparado mucho para muchas cosas que me pasaron ya - los gritos, aceptando  la cultura diferente, ver que las cositas extrañas son lo que hace el viaje una memoria que me recordaré por siempre.

Ejemplos:
La mierda en la calle
Los perros sin hogar
Los montones de basura en las esquinas
Los hombres sin hogar durmiendo en los parques
El vandalismo en casi cada rostro de seguridad de los negocios

Así no me encanta todo, pero la ciudad es una tan viva y vibrante que casi no pudiera sacar un negativo y todavía tener la ciudad de BsAs.

Hoy era el primer día de la clase intensiva y fue bastante fácil. Pero a la misma vez no quiero que sea imposible que saque una nota buena. Quiero repasar lo que se me olvidó y recomenzar de allí. Compré algunos cuadernos para sacar apuntes ahora y luego en el semestre verdadera. Tenía que empezar hoy mismo a recoger todas las cosas que necesito para mi visa y la UB y el celular (que me dieron mis padres anfitriones) Y el sube. Espero que todo se pasa bien porque me hace correr un poco. Como moza, debo tratar todo como si fuera unas mesas grandes - matar un pájaro con una piedra... así se dice en ingles.

Bueno, creo que es todo, espero escribir en mi journal que José me dio con cariño antes de que me fui.

Ángela

Dropping, Dropping Low

The dashboard on my MacBook says it's 86 degrees and sunny; My brain tells me that's just about right; But my hair says HOLD UP LADY, THIS IS THE HUMID ZONE.

I arrived at Ezeiza International Airport around 10:30 AM, Buenos Aires time (+2). I should have packed lighter because standing in three lines for the next hour and a half was not my back's idea of fun. After paying my reciprocity fee and passing through immigration and customs, I was so exhausted I had to sit down. In passing that seems like a logical reason, but I had just been sitting for the past 20 hours! I sat aisle seat on the plane to Ezeiza and was in between a French Canadian couple and a young Argentinean brother and sister. I was overwhelmed by the rapid Spanish being spoken while awaiting boarding, but sitting next to children made me feel more at ease to speak, if need be. I did offer the girl my headphones once, and that's all we exchanged. Her look of disbelief that I just spoke Spanish to her was priceless to me: I became confident... until I met my host family.

I met Eduardo in front of Universidad de Belgrano, at the mass ISA student drop-off. Eduardo kissed me on the right cheek, and I did the same - as is custom. I said "hello", "how are you", "I'm fine", and "yes, it's hot out" and that opened the door for only Spanish. And fast Spanish. I was bombarded by Argentinean Spanish with the "shj" instead of "ll" or "y", the cut off "s"es, and the "vos" usage. Was I talking about confidence before? I have resorted to smiling and agreeing, something along the lines of this: 

Arriving in their flat, which is quite large, was like a dream. I am in this absolutely tiny room (which I don't mind at all) and have my own bathroom. Arriving in a winter outfit that has been worn over 24 hours, the most recent couple of hours sitting in 80+ degree weather, I decided to shower. My what a Heavenly Shower. And I've had some pretty Heavenly showers lately. 

Aside: I attended the 2012 U.S. Naval Academy Leadership Conference in Annapolis, MD with two classmates and my professor, and the accommodations at the Westin Hotel had what they call "Heavenly Beds", "Heavenly Showers", and "Heavenly Towels".

But. I took a nice cold shower and was ready for the rest of the day. By the way I did unpack everything into this large closet I have, as I am "begged to keep my room organized so it can be cleaned up"; or so the sign in my room reads. I met my hosts, the dog Alazán and two of my host brother's friends - who's names I cannot remember. The family is fabulous, and Alazán is sweet. He is a 13 year old Boxer. He has greying hair and is so docile. All he does is lay on the cool floor or stand right next to me and let me pat his bum. We will become good friends.

The food tonight was fantastic. I confess I had 3 croissants before dinner, which was at 9:30 PM, because I sort of got lost in the streets of Buenos Aires. Yes, the first day I am there I am sent on my merry way to find the flat after a meeting at the ISA office. With three maps, I passed my my street by one block. My host brother Andy was sent to look for me. I wasn't lost, I knew my mistake - I just had to get back, and that took time. Of course, by then it was nightfall... I was chuckling to myself; safely, I rounded the corner and hopped up the stairs.

The dinner that was waiting was chicken milanesa - a fabulous chicken in egg batter with breadcrumbs, salt, pepper and "other spices", as my host mother María generalized, mashed potatoes, and a tomato, onion and egg salad with balsamic vinaigrette. And lots of salt. I had jello for desert - I'm not sure if that's something special around here but the way she described it (I had no idea what she meant), it sounded like it was something exquisite. It was good, mind you, but not the wildly exhilarating new taste of the country.

I'd like to apologize for the lack of photos, but as I was falling asleep on the plane yesterday, I was made grimly aware that I neglected to purchase an electrical converter so I could plug my camera charger in. I will see what I can do about it on Sunday. 

I will now head to my bed, all one foot away and sleep until the sun comes up or the heat starts biting, hopefully whichever comes later. 

oh... and there is a siren that has been piercing the night for the last ten minutes. #soundsofthecity

Welcome to the Big Apple.

Angela

Oh What A... Day

NOTE: Please, have read my title in the voice of Gerry Polci as he opens the song December '63 (Oh What a Night) with Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, 1975.

After being so active in preparing my first blog entry, I feel as though this week has dragged on. All I wanted to do was post yet I had nothing to report. Oh wait, I do; I repacked. For the third time. But everything fits! For now... After all, I am a girl.

So. I was originally supposed to hear back from International Studies Abroad (ISA) with regards to the host family with whom I will be living on this past FRIDAY, but as I start this entry for you all, [to thoroughly sit back, kick your feet up and enjoy], using the past indicative and negative present perfect [here ->], I still haven't heard. BUT, waiting is part of the excitement. And patience is a virtue. (Please see video at 1:33 until 1:36 for optimal imagery. SVP, pardon the French if you watch the video entirely). I'm Losing my Patience. In my time of waiting, I should like to review the grammatical constructions of the Spanish language so I sort of perform well on the placement exam. (Slash, it is IMPERATIVE I do well - graduating on time is dependent on my placement). No pressure.

While my preparations have long been under way (about 7 months maturing now), there will be some things for which I cannot prepare in any way other than to maintain an open mind. In thinking about my host family, an initial question pops into my head: WHAT THE HELL IS IT GOING TO BE LIKE!? What about the machismo factor I've heard about? (The hierarchy of family - a patriarchal structure, father figure = head honcho) And me??? Especially being an American female with this potential machismo style of new life in which to live, I may very well be stunned: we have grown accustomed to fairly equal opportunities for the sexes in the United States, but what will be evident down al Rio de la Plata remains to be determined. I have really no idea what life will be like there; I can read all I want, but living and breathing the Argentine lifestyle will be the only way to truly know.
Aside: One thing I found out today is that BsAs is the ONLY city in Argentina that has done away with the siesta (you know, the hour or two after lunch when everything shuts down and everyone naps?). My demise has been met.
#LOLjk. I hardly napped in Marietta and the Big Apple will likely be less conducive to such behavior; I am certain my days will be long and completely lleno de aventuras que desarollarán de incertidumbre y sorpresa! 

Back to this host family topic; Many of the host families are not new to this process - meaning they regularly "adopt" international students for a semester. Does this mean their flexibility and understanding of foreigners is less stringent and acute compared to the everyday porteño of BsAs? Something to note will be the Leadership Labyrinth* of la vida diara, or daily life, as well as the life of the professional, working woman. Will aspects of the role of women be more widely different than the United States? That seems to go without saying - but why would that be my immediate and perhaps naïve answer. If my observations support the blatant differences I predict, what is it that will be different? (Woman's role in the house? In the business world? What is expected attire, behavior, and communication? In private? In the public's eye? With men or women?) I look forward to sitting and observing, being absorbent and porous, you could say.

Until tomorrow, Monday, I sit and vegetate. Oh what a day... yeah right. Unfortunately (in this case) Sunday is a day of rest. For more news to pass to you I must wait also. #heyYoda

Angela

Ladies and Gentlemen, Start Your Brains

In honor of the first day of classes at Marietta College, I have decided to make this the opening day of my blog; welcome. For the next two and a half weeks, I won't have much revolutionary information, except this: I am going to Argentina, not France as the McDonough website says. That brings me to my DISCLAIMER: As I will be in Argentina, Sarkozy will likely not be the center of my Global Leadership dissection. (#Sorrynotsorry.) I think it will be more focused on Argentina's recently reelected President, Cristina Fernández de Kirchner. (That had a twinge of sarcasm: I am certain she will be involved...) Of the four bloggers for LEAD 203, I will be the only student living in a country with a female leader*. So this is an early shout out to my girl Cristina (you are welcome to partake): Beyoncé's Run the World (Girls). With the stereotypically reverse occurring in Argentina's government, female leader, I will also be reversing my seasons of the year; hence, my semester starts in early March, headed off by an intensive month of Spanish language classes starting in February. Basically, Argentine students are having their long summer break during our winter break. Some things are a bit different below the Equator; I will report back on which way the toilets flush later...

My goals for this blog are to record my preparations, my arrival, my shock, my acceptance, my rejection, my uncertainty, my leaps of faith, my revelations, my successes, my setbacks, my opinions and my perceptions of life living outside the United States. My journey is the most important aspect of this step in my life, and I am ready to take it on. This thread of blog entries that is to come will hopefully be an eclectic conglomeration of resources, photos, and stories. I look to use video clips, English and Spanish, and photos - entries that are full of color and description. To see the progression of my Spanish - speaking and writing - will be undoubtedly out of this world, and likely something I will laugh at in September and subsequent years when I look back at this blog.

If you have questions of any kind, pertinent or not to LEAD 203, don't hesitate to ask. Everything is relevant when it comes to uprooting yourself and living in another country.

This was a futile first attempt at packing: you can imagine why they suggest packing and repacking a few times before you really give it a final go.

...thinking I had this in the bag...

The explosion from the first removal of everything from my suitcase plus more from my closet and shopping bags that can be seen strewn about the room.

After meticulous repacking (time #2 and INVENTORY of everything I fit, simply so I can take it apart and redo it again.)

So far, what I have packed (my life in 6 months) is in this green suitcase. Handily, it doubles as a backpack. Surprisingly it wasn't that heavy to put on, as you can see. (Yes, that is a onezie, zip-up, fleece, footie pajama.)

*The term leader (here) is used relatively loosely, stemming from the skepticism that comes from open discussion in Leadership courses. 

Here's the food for thought with that: Cristina Fernández de Kirchner won her reelection with a margin of over 40% of the popular vote. Does this reflect support for her leadership style, her accomplishments and her goals for the country? It would seem so. Leader was used loosely in the above paragraph because the leaders of other countries can be of questionable power and nature (benevolence? opportunism? paternalism?) (cough cough, Russia's change of power...), but does that mean they are not a leader? (Does a leader have to be good? What is good? And what about the greatest good for the greatest number of people? What about Machiavelli and the ends justifying the means?) 

Author's Note for 203: I rather like the idea of an asterisk in my blog. I may try to have one of these controversial and stimulating rhetorical question sessions at the end. You need not respond but you may if you like. I have found they are generally good fun. Cheers, until next time!

Angela