updated pics of la boca, among others

favorites from la boca (apparently one of BsAs' most dangerous neighborhoods if you don't know what you're doing) include the old man leaning in his doorway, (he had the most bow-legged legs ever), the neighborhood dog taking a leak, and the boy with the street lamp.

speaking of dogs, jo and i ran this morning and had a random dog literally follow us like a lost puppy for over 40 minutes. was a mutt with collar who just jumped on board when we went by. we sadly lost him somewhere on our return home. he surprisingly knew when to cross the streets and how to avoid zooming cars. he also could find us 5 minutes down the street after losing us due to sniffing random grassy spots or fighting off other mongrels. he was so wise, like a miniature buddha, covered in hair.

rebecca - check out the menu that has vitamin water... just don't tell anyone!

the buenos aires timewarp

i've been here 3 weeks and it literally feels like months. loads of people who have been here for a while speak of the "BsAs time warp" where you lose track of the hours, the days, the weeks, even the seasons. not sure if it's because the seasons are swapped or the fact that the nights are so long and you sleep so little, but the concept of time is a funny thing here. and it doesn't help that my watch, the only watch i've brought out of the many i own, sputtered to a slow death a week ago and i have yet to replace it. i've literally worn a watch every day of my life for at least the past 10 years, from the moment i got my first Swatch with the little gnomes from around the world on the band. not having instant access to time layered on top of the time warp really made me crazy at first. but then i realized... why do i need the time, anyway? no one is in a rush here, not the waiters who make you ask for the bill (you can spend hours lounging after a meal and no one will kick you out), not the people strolling on the sidewalks (i'm trying not to be the crazy NY'er pushing around everyone), not even the people in line to check out at the grocery store. the latin life is so much less rushed, and hence less stressful.

then there's the besos. since everyone literally kisses each other hello and goodbye, it's only natural to sign emails or texts with a kiss. whether it's "besos," "abrazos," "x," "un beso," etc., it is a must, even if you've never met the person before, if it's your Spanish teacher or someone you may not like. men also kiss each other upon meeting, which to me, is the best. a few american dudes have confessed it still makes them uncomfortable, but that's the puritan american for you.

as for the last few days, it was my first break from going out so hard. friday afternoon began with a quick empanada on the street (less than $1!) before my private Spanish class with martha (a bit pricey at $20/hour, but she has an amazing house right in San Telmo and is very strict when i say something incorrectly, which is what i need). then it was off to yoga at Heather's, who has the most amazing, charming apartment i've seen. if i'm still here in July, i've offered to take over her rent. then finished off the night with a quiet, drawn out dinner around the corner from our apartment where Jo, the new british roommate, and i talked for quite some time about life. a nice break from the plethora of 24 year olds around. she is now the 3rd person in as many weeks to invite me to visit in london. might just have to visit big ben sometime soon.

woke up early to go for a long run with Jo, whose birhtday it was. we ran to the Palermo Park (mini Central Park) and joined in a public salsa aerobics class we happened to stumble upon. had a good laugh at how terrible we were and then wandered off to the rose garden. then i spent the afternoon sunning at a pool of some new american guys i met who have been living here for a few years. one thing BsAs definitely has on NY is the plethora of private pools at apartment buildings. come on, NYC! then had an hour of Spanish class with another new private tutor, which was $10 an hour very well spent.

last night was a dinner party at my wine teacher's girlfriend's apartment with some of my fellow winos. he's the ex-lawyer, ex-actor, sommelier trained wine teacher, she's a tall, hot, thoracic surgeon. 3 others from my class were there, one married couple and the chilean girl who wants to open a restaurant in Santiago. sushi was ordered in (they put cream cheese on almost all rolls, gross), un picada (basically an antipasto of assorted cheeses, olives, hams, nuts and roasted pepper) and of course lots of wine. the white sparkling malbec (yep, white MALBEC) from alma negra was my favorite of the night. the 5 hours of conversation was 75% in spanish, which was great practice for me. discussion was pretty typical for a dinner party, whether it's american or argentine. discussed recent seasons of TV shows, current events, WW2 and nazi jokes (they were unaware how sensitive this was... awkward), traveling to the States, etc.

today was spent walking around the San Telmo market and la Boca (the dangerous neighborhood you only go to during the day and stay on one street, El Caminito, which is one of the most colorful streets here). waking up early for another run with Jo since we just treated ourselves to some ridiculous Argentine desserts. pictures to come soon, but now i have to do homework.

Updated captions on photos on Flickr...

...if anyone's interested.

laid out at chris's hotel's pool for an hour yesterday and got some serious color while doing my preterite imperfect verbs homework. the pool was on the roof and a very perfect respite from the heat. chris was back from uruguay for a night before heading off to Lima this morning. Maggie and Sue came over after and we had loads of Malbec in his sweet NY-loft-style hotel room, with a balcony and great view of the city. it was Sue's last night, as well. she had just gotten back from Mendoza (hence the malbec) and is most likely already back in london by now. Then it was off to a parilla for chris' last Argentine steak and then Las Terrazas, the Wednesday night hotspot where the Argentine businessmen go after work. Another night of little to no sleep and it was off to class this morning via taxi, possibly still drunk. Wow, it has been a while since that happened. (mom, dad, sorry). Somehow managed to get through all 4 hours of class, speaking what had to be crazy incoherent Spanish, but at least I made it! Maggie did not. she spent the morning sleeping. i myself just caught up on some sleep and need to do some homework before heading out to dinner...

dinner tonight is with a NY'er named Adam who recently opened or is trying to open a restaurant down here. Introduced via friend of a friend, who I met at Jared's Chanukah party in December. The randomness continues.

tomorrow i'll have my first private Spanish class with Martha, the Argentine woman who is married to Mickey, the Bronx jazz-singer and wine aficionado that Heather introduced me to. After it's off to private yoga class at Heather's apartment, with Chris (the friend visiting from LA who happens to have a show on SiriusXM) who will be honing his newly acquired yoga teaching skills. Can't wait to get some serious down-dogs in.

Besos, kids.

If I don't write now, it's never going to happen.

i don't think i've ever said this before and really meant it, but, DAMN, there are not enough hours in the day. i keep meaning to post and then, oops, a new British roommate pops in, or it's time to wash my laundry by hand while the bathroom is open and no one's on the balcony smoking to mind my laundry drying.

to pick up where i left off, Saturday afternoon i took the most amazing graffiti tour around Palermo and Colegiales, two neighborhoods with quite a colorful history. i'll do my best to give a brief synopsis of the history of graffiti in BsAs. graffiti had never made it here as it had in the rest of the world (big tagging of gang names, etc). of course, with origins in NYC, taggers began taking it all over europe and asia, but apparently minimally in s. america. then, there was a period of 2 weeks in the early 2000s when BsAs went through 5 presidents. people took to the streets, painting who they wanted in/out all over the place. of course, much of it was negative. one artist decided he wanted the people to have something nice to look at during their walks to work instead of all of the pessimism, so he got about 20 artist friends together and began painting the outside of his with lots of giant, colorful animal/characters. (the beginning of my graffiti pictures are his house). the neighbors across the street enjoyed it so much they asked them to paint their walls. soon enough, the artists were being commissioned by legit places, incuding subway stations and electric plants, to beautify their buildings. a few key differences between US graffiti and BsAs graffiti: 1) here they use normal latex house paint with rollers. this allows them to reach higher places than someone with an aerosol can. also latex paint allows for long -lasting, brightly colored images (whereas aerosol fades). 2) the artists actually collaborate with each other using space. it's not just "my stuff goes here, yours goes there". they intertwine images and play off each other. look closely and you will see what i mean. 3) because they don't have a history of rebellious graffiti here, it really isn't "wrong" to do it. as long as the artists get permission from the building they're painting, they have all the time in the world. this leads to more elaborate works, including very detailed stencils, which i tried to get some good shots of. you'll see a lot of commonality between some walls, because there are a group of artists that continue to get commissioned or ask to paint around the city. the lucha libre half-animal, half-person images are from a guy named Jazz. Banky is the awesome stencil artist (the wall where i took a picture in front of was commissioned by some chic-chic restaurant and has all of his favorite personal images. they let him do whatever he wanted). Zumi is a female artist, as is Pum-Pum. Nerf was also a big name, i think he did all the 3-d cubes. the artist you see actively painting the elvis and marilyn monroe was part of our tour, hired to show us how they are done.

a few quick words on some of the specific images. one of the really cool things about BsAs graffiti is the sentiments behind it. the image of the woman on the all with the arabic hookah smoke/snake charmer was done in honor of the artist's grandmother, who has alzheimer's. he went around and painted her stencil all over the city, in places she used to visit. even though she is forgetting the city, the city has not forgotten her. the shot of the woman's face on the rottweiler was the artist's ex-gf (never burn a guy who paints the city! our guide so eloquently pointed out). the floating head scarfs represent the killed women from some war. i feel terrible i can't remember specific, but it was quite poignant because they are now painted over an elementary school playground so it's like the mothers are watching over the children. the lamb with "fuerta magda" was a get-well card to a relative. the giant tortoise carrying the court building and justice was commissioned by a jewish group to honor a bombing of a temple. the tortoise of course symbolizes how slow justice moves. one guy did all these random ramones images and someone sent images to the group's fan group or manager or something and he was commissioned to design ramones' memorabilia. the last group of pictures is the local graffiti artists' bar where they consistently update the walls and also have rooms where they sell their work.

the cute girl posing in front of what is definitely one of my favorite walls is my new Australian friend Melissa who is 20 years old, just finished her first year of university in sydney, and is traveling by herself for 5 weeks in south america. sadly, she has already gone on to bariloche (patagonia), but her energy and quirkiness definitely added to the tour. we spoke in spanish for 3/4 of the time, which also added to the experience.

saturday evening maggie and i decided a low-key dinner would be best, so we headed to Desnivel in San Telmo. a hole-in-the-wall authentic Argentine restaurant where a steak dinner, spinach omelette, grilled proveleta and 1/2 Liter of wine came to $33 total. i won't get into the homemade dulce de leche flan. (dad, i promise i won't be as fat as i was when i got back from spain!)

sunday morning i made my way to the Palermo Parks for my first real run, which felt amazing. they have a mini Central Park thing going on, with lakes and running trails. just like home! then maggie and i met up with Allie, a friend of a friend kind of situation (Jen Chernaik, if you're reading this, I met Allie! and she's awesome!). we met at Mooi, an uber cute cafe in Belgrano for a late brunch. Allie is 25 and has been living here for about 4 years, works for a company that helps ex-pats study and volunteer abroad and also writes a food blog about BsAs restaurants. of course we got along swimmingly. she also lives with her Argentine boyfriend. que copado! my yogurt, fruit and granola, fresh OJ and cafe con leche were perfect, especially for the low price of 33 pesos (about $8). after, maggie and i checked out the giant shopping (their term for shopping mall) in Palermo, just to get out of the sweltering heat. i got a $10 tank from zara with a picture of a rabbit dressed up in a dress, bow and purse, and the most ridiculous english phrase: "i'm feeling wonderful. i'm waiting for my date." how could i not buy it?

when we got back to the apartment, we found we had a new roommate who moved into Chris' old room. Jo is British, turning 35 on Saturday, here taking 2 weeks of Tango during her vacation and works in development/aide for third world countries. she has worked and lived in Tanzania, Mozambique and Afghanistan, just to name a few, overseeing projects regarding education, women's issues, health, etc. her fave place is afghanistan, i kid you not. she totally lights up when she talks about it. so here she is, saving the world, and i'm off taking wine classes.

after wine class tonight (i got 15 out of the 20 scents right! up from 8/20), i met up with heather, another american woman living here. she has been here since 2004 working in the wine industry but unfortunately moving to LA in a week. she had a friend, Chris, in town from LA who actually has a show on XM. (schwartz, i'm emailing you later about this!) we had an yet another amazing dinner at a very homey place literally around the corner from me that i didn't know about, and will definitely be returning now that i met the owner, Felix. after, we went to an old library turned jazz club where heather's friend mickey, a 75-year old jewish man from the bronx, was partaking in a jam session. he married an argentine woman a while ago and moved down here a few years ago. he also works in wine. marta, his wife, is a spanish tutor and she our first private class is friday afternoon. Chris, the friend visiting from LA, just finished his yoga teacher training and is giving heather, maggie and me a private yoga class wednesday afternoon at heather's apartment so he can get his groove going.

that's all i got for now. will add captions to the pictures when it's not 2am.

2nd week down - Tango, La Terraza, Ceviche, Alfajores, an Irish Pub and Asia de Cuba

wow, this week flew by. my first week was the week of Amy and the second week was definitely the week of Chris.

my now ex-roommate has traveled the world many times over at the young age of 26 and had a few weeks between ending a job in San Fran and starting one in London. he decided to stay in BsAs for a few weeks, take a DJ course, and just enjoy the Latin culture. he also apparently thought it would be his detox time. ha! he is the reason i have not been able to write anything for the past 4 days. well, him, vino and my classes.

Tuesday night, as i posted below, was spent at a random Milonga (tango club) in San Telmo. i hadn't looked up anything about it, as i was planning on staying in and doing homework when Chris popped in and asked if i wanted to join. basically a Milonga is where tango-lovers old and new, local and foreign, go to dance. we had both never been so did not know what to expect. neither of us planned on dancing, just watching. when i saw 2 men dancing, i thought, how cool! men here are SO comfortable with their sexuality. they would never do that in the States. then i saw some women dancing with each other. cool! they teach each other how to dance before mixing with men. then i saw the men's faces touching. and i looked closer at the women. then at the sign over the stage. Tango Queer. really! the 2nd time in 2 weeks we ended up at a gay night without knowing! it even bettered the experience, as how many people have been able to watch gay tango so openly? we couldn't figure out who decided who got to lead, but at the end of each dance, it was fun to watch everyone laugh about their missteps and talk about what they would do better next time. they rotated partners quite frequently and there were some mixed couples. you could tell everyone really loved their tango. spent an hour or two at the milonga then found an old, antiquey bar that seemed to be the only one open past 2am on a Tuesday. good lighting, lots of melting candles and an all around cool, Hemingway type ambience. posting pictures soon.

wednesday i spent all day out at classes and planned on spending the night in, until of course Chris texted me while i was on the bus home that he wanted to go to La Terraza, this huge club a little way out of the city, on the river, with 4 dance floors, indoors and out. my Brazilian classmate (the 19 year old) had been raving about how great it was, how it was the coolest experience of her life, so of course i couldn't let Chris not go. got home by 10, shared the bottle of wine i had just won at my wine class (100 pesos! at that point, the most expensive bottle we had tried thus far). by 1130 we were in a cab to La Terraza. it was in this weird part of town, near the airport, on a strip of a street lined with huge clubs, spread apart, all along the river. the cab driver had to stop about 10 times to find the exact spot, but once we found it, it was totally worth it. definitely the best looking crowd in Argentina, to date. and wednesday nights are the after work spot, so it was all men in suits. and it was huge. 3 rooms of latin music and one room of awesome pop-dance music. stayed until they kicked us out at 3am. at this point, we were the only people not making out. literally every single couple left in the club was making out. on the way home, had the unique experience of singing Metallica songs at the top of our voices with an Argetine cab driver clearly stick in the early 90s. chris dropped me off at the apartment and went off to another bar to meet a friend. he, unlike me, does not have classes at 9am.

thursday. 4 hours of sleep, more spanish class, then i dutifully meet chris at MALBA, the museo de arte latinoamericano art in BsAs. even though i was quite delerious by this point. we had been planning it all week, since it was the one day neither of us had class in the afternoon. gonzalo, my spanish teacher, escorted me on the bus there since he lives nearby. chris was passed out on the grass, tanning, when we arrived. parted ways with gonzalo, then chris and i went to find a lunch spot. the museum cafe was ridiculously overpriced. we walked a few blocks and found a sandwicheria where we got jamon y queso (y lettuce, tomato and black olives) sandwiches on pretty delicious french bread and giant bottles of water. picnicked on the grass outside the museum and made our way in. the art ranged mostly from the 1910s-1960s and was very cool, definitely with its own style, but also very influenced by european art at the time. the Tarsila do Armaral was my favorite painting. there's now a postcard size of it taped up in my room. the Marta Minujin exhibit was crazy. if you don't know her (i had never heard of her), i suggest wikipedia'ing her. she was very avant garde in the 60s, 70s and 80s and did very out of the box, experiential type art. they call it living art? one example: she made a room entirely out of mattresses, with a jumble of mattresses inside as well. of course we went in and jumped around like we were children. until the nasty smell arose and we got the hell out.

then it was nap time and homework time and shower time. then dinner at Ceviche, a peruvian restaurant in Palermo, where we met up with Romi, Chris's sister's friend's friend. i can't begin to explain Romi. she is about 5 feet tall, 80 pounds, resembles Penelope Cruz, and is crazy. but in a good way. she dances hip hop a million hours a week and has the body to show for it. she dances like she is in a music video, dresses like she is in a gucci ad, and looks like she spends days at the salon at a time. her quote of the night: the only impossible thing is a ghost. she is in her mid 30s and has a 5 year old daughter. and they live with her parents.

oh, the food! we sat outside on the back terrace (a great first date spot -- some tables were up on their own level, very private). ordered a few plates of amazing ceviche, different types of fish marinated in different sauces, as well as a cooked fish/ calamari/ mussel/shrimp plate. made me realize i definitely like peruvian food better than argentine food - more flavors and way healthier. a bottle of Torrontes finished us up. well, at least me. i was home by 12:30 and chris went out with Romi.

friday. class all day again. (i know, life is hard, spanish and wine all day! wah wah). the spanish is getting harder, hating the imperative tense, but i'm nailing my blind smelling exercise (we do it every wine class) which is promising. i can tell i'm developing my eyes and nose for how to really read wine before tasting. but it really is so subjective...

i had found a great leather store near my wine school before class but didnt have time to peruse. Sue and i made our way back during our break between classes and i bought a great pair of green leather and wood platform shoes and a gray and coral leather purse. both were on sale. Sue got the same shoes, but in orange. then we experienced our first alfajores in the nearby Havana. Havana is a chain cafe known to have the best alfajores in BsAs. we split 2, the chocolate and dulce de leche. que rico! then another wine class where we tasted 5 different vinos de crianza - all were over 80 pesos. we typically taste wines in the 20-40 peso range. twas a very good class. then home to shower and relax for a bit. maggie came back from drinks with her school friend, and then chris's french friend he had met when working in Dubai also came over with his Argentine girlfriend (long story i won't get into) and we had some drinks on the balcony as they chain smoked as they do here. finally got our act together by 2am and met up with gonzalo at some irish pub. he was with his fellow teachers and left shortly. hung out outside the pub for a while, taking pictures with these giant fake pirate statues with maggie. she headed home around 330 and then the four of us, (2 french, an argentine and moi) went to asia de cuba, a club near puerto madera, on the river to meet up with Tujina and her friends. was home around 4:30? 5? talked with chris on the balcony til 6 as he was leaving today to go to Uruguay today. i'll miss my housemate, but now maybe i'll get some sleep (and runs) in.

that sums of Week 2, the week of chris. whew.

dulce de amazing

yes, es la verdad. the dulce de leche gelado IS as good as everyone says it is. i mean, i've had good ice cream in my days. this, however, really can't compare. i had my third dose of it tonight after dinner with Maria Elise, an Argentine woman i met via email 3 years ago when i first looked at moving down here. she was a contact my dad's Argentina friend from his marina recommended i reach out. three years and many emails later, we finally met! twas a bit of an awkward experience but i plowed through it. we ate at the food court in this fancy-pants mall a few blocks down from my apartment.

ah, shit. frenchie roommate is dragging me to a tango show in San Telmo. who needs sleep anyway?

i'll finish this thought later.

my brain is beginning to ache. but in a good way.

dale! (pronounced DAH-lay... same as vale in Espana... kinda slang for OK!)

i finally have some quiet time to get some words out. hopefully i have the focus and brain cells to do it. normally i hate when people cancel dinner plans as happened tonight, but right now it's bueno...

so my first full weekend was great. friday night i got out of wine class pretty late (10ish) and headed over to my British roommate Tuhina's American friends' apartment, as it was their last weekend and were having a going away party for themselves. 3 guys who grew up together in LA and moved down here in September. 2 out of the 3 left yesterday, the 3rd is planning on staying a while as he got a job tutoring math in english to an 8 year old, or something. one was a personal chef in LA for a year and he banged out a great meal to feed all 15 or so of us. we then went to Crobar, a club that is also in Miami as well as who knows where else. as i said before, it was my first real clubbing experience in quite some time and was actually pretty fun. definitely stayed up to see the sun rise, then headed to El Tigre bright and early Saturday morning (on 2 hours of sleep) with the roomies and our program/school.

El Tigre is a nearby town, about 45 minute train ride, where you can ride a ferry and look at all these mini islands in the middle of brown muddy river and Argentines bathing in it. i guess it's where they "summer" as there were lots of houses and docks dotted throughout the river. we also went to a local parilla (steakhouse) where i of course had an omelette, but i did try bits of the meat. the sweetbreads were delish. i posted a few pics so you get an idea, but i really don't think it would be a "must-see" for future visitors, in case you were wondering.

we were back at the apartment by 6pm, crashed for another 2 hours, then got ready to go to an asada, or Argentina BBQ/ house party, also at Tuhina's friend's place, but this time an Italian aspiring director who is friends with a French guy Tuhina goes to school with. but this deserves some more detail. it was in Palermo, which is the fun, trendy neighborhood here (there's a Palermo SoHo and a Palermo Hollywood if that gives you any idea). it was a mansion, owned by the Italian guy's cousin, who was on vacation with his wife and kids for a month. 3 stories, back yard with pool, huge walls with ivy for privacy. just a really great place. i couldn't fit my camera in my tiny going out bag, but hopefully Maggie (new roommate from Minnesota, dontyaknow) will post her pics on FB soon. we each paid about 40 pesos ($10) for the food (grilled steak, of course) and had lots of vino and then the traditional Argentine liquor... Fernet, which is usually mixed with Coke. it's pretty bitter, but i actually like it, which is rare since i don't go for the brown liquors. the party was a mix of frenchies, argentines, the italian, 2 Koreans, a Venezuelan, and us. by 2am we were ready to hit the clubs again, this time it was a local, non-chain club and not as fun as Crobar, but different enough. again, home around 6, then up at noon. Maggie and i had planned on checking out the Recoleta Cemetary where Evita is buried, but the skies opened up to a torrential downpour while we were eating brunch (massive salads and detoxifying juice drinks) around the corner. we ended up talking for about 2 or 3 hours, about our lives back in the states and what made us come here. she too studied in Spain and knew as soon as she left she would live abroad again. it's just a feeling we both couldn't shake. she's here for a year and getting her MBA. the rain finally let up a little and we headed home, where we watched a bit of Titanic (english with subtitles) and Footloose (dubbed in Spanish) with Chris, the Frenchie who had bought us 2 tubs of gelato (can't even start on how good the dulce de leche is).

after some homework and studying, we had a roommate dinner at a resturant around the corner known for it's Argentine comfort foods. best empanadas i've had thus far, but the stew was only meh. and it's giving me one hell of a stomachache today, so i may only go back for the empanadas. also randomly saw a couple that was on my flight down from NYC. i went over and said hi to them. they were just down visiting for a week or 2. yes, i have a weird memory for faces.

that brings me to today... got my hair Brazilian straightened, something i've wanted to do for a while now. only cost the equivalent of $100, and should last 3 months. the girl who did it spoke no English so hopefully nothing was lost in translation and i wake up with a full head of hair tomorrow. fingers crossed!

oh, i'm going to start a word of the day. today's word is: GOOGLEAR. yep, it means to google! how fun is that?

another fun fact: almost (or all) newly created verbs end in AR. so basically anything technology related will end in AR. good to know!

Lazy, rainy Sunday

out at the clubs til the sun came up the past 2 nights so naturally a day on the couch watching Footloose (en espanol por supuesto) with roommates is the perfect way to spend Sunday afternoon. it's a hard life, but someone's gotta live it.

oh, and the more Spanish i speak, the worse my English gets. is that normal?

the sun is coming up

yep, i'm 22 again. went to crobar tonight and off to pacha tomorrow night. i haven't done that in a long time... anthony, i know you'll be happy and know what i'm talking about.

tomorrow we're going to the city of la tigre at 10:30 am. yeah, it's 6am and apparently this is not a problem. am i really that old? can't be. chris is 26. perhaps i was just in corporate america too long. that's it.

now we're sitting on the balcony (the frenchie and brit and her friend alex, a chef from phoenix). it's nice to sit and wonder... how did i get here?

Walking the city makes you notice a few things

First, you will get wet. Even when the sun is blazing and it does not call for rain for days. I am referring of course to the inevitable drips from the window A/C units all over this city. One second I'm walking along, thinking I'm so cool, I think I'm starting to blend in like a porteno and then all of a sudden, I'm attacked. I have to quickly decide whether I just got shit on by a bird... or, nope, just the A/C again. I know this happens in NYC, but it's tenfold here. Once it happens, it's a consistent downpour of tiny little sprinkles for a few feet. Trying to avoid the drops would be fruitless, they're so frequent. I think you just come to accept them and eventually embrace them, because, hey, they do lend some respite to the 90 degree weather.

Second, you can't walk against the light or jaywalk like you'd want to in the States. At least like a NY'er would want to. The main streets have these crazy fences along the corners of the sidewalks at the major intersections in the city, forcing you to walk halfway down the street to cross in the middle of the block. I can only imagine how many people must have gotten killed or injured crossing at a corner before these gates were put up. One of the first pieces of advice Amy gave me was to not walk too close to the curb because the buses literally zoom out of nowhere and get within an inch of the sidewalk. One miscalculated step could ruin your days.

Finally, these portenos love their dogs. Mostly small, fluffy, generic dogs. Seems like chows are rather popular as well. Which of course is great, except for all the dog shit on the sidewalks. Curb your dog, what? The second piece of advice Amy gave me was to always look down when walking. Between the broken, crumbling, uneven sidewalks and the crazy amount of dogshit, looking down will avoid many a cursing. And I finally saw a Frenchie! Right around the corner from my apartment. I'm definitely going to keep an eye out for him again... Adriana & Jonathan, it could have been Jack's brother!

Bife. It's what's for dinner.

If you know me, you know I don't eat much meat. As a testament, I went the first four days sans meat (with the exception of chicken at a cooking class) and even managed to find what I'm sure is a rarity - grilled tofu at an Argentine restaurant. Needless to say, I probably would have been fine not visiting La Cabrera, one of the most recited "must-go" parillas (steakhouses) in the city. But it was Lisa's last night here and she, Amy and Caitlin (Amy's roommate) had been planning this dinner for a while, so I gladly accepted when they extended the invitation. We were prepared for a 2 hour wait (don't fret- they serve free champagne and tasters to the waiting crowd on the sidewalk!) but were told 45 minutes upon arrival. Pshh, 45 minutes, Amy scoffed! What, you think it will be less? I asked. Ha, doubtful. An hour and 20 minutes and two champagne glasses each later, we were given a ticket to bring to the La Cabrera outpost a block down the street. Same exact thing, just an extension, Amy informed us (she'd already been to both and promised they were the same).

I was with pros (or at least someone who had been here 3 times already), so I let them order. A starter of grilled provolone, a bottle of Cab Sav (they were out of Malbec!) and the main course of Ojo de bife (ribeye?) y Bife de Chorizo (sirloin?). These were served with numerous sides and sauces, from mashed pumpkin with raisins to white beans in some sort of pesto, from baked pearl onions in red wine to the sweetest honeydew chunks I've ever tasted. They say a picture is worth a 1,000 words, so here are about 12,000 words for you. If you're a meat eater, you should most definitely be jealous at this point.

And to the award winning author/NY Times journalist/food forager Michael Pollen, I am on board - grass-fed is the way to go.

so what am i actually here to do? no, it's not to shop cute boutiques and eat unlimited empanadas.

finally, a bit about mis clases!

it's been 8 years since my study abroad in Salamanca (where I received my minor en espanol), and, boy, if you don't use it, you sure as hell lose it. i was given a one-page front and back assessment test yesterday as soon as i got to the language school and knew the outcome wasn't going to be great. (to preface: i think there are at least 6 levels, perhaps as many as 10, and they are then broken out into additional sections. each level takes 2 weeks).

i amounted to a level 2.2. however, the only 2.2 class available was full of brazilians, and the lady kindly informed me they would advance much faster than my American brain, and i should enter the 2.1 class. i have a minor in Spanish. i lived in Spain for 5 months. grrr. so, yes, i am in a 2.1 with a norwegian girl, brazilian girl and an american man (Roberto is 54 years old, retired early, taught economics for a year in Chile sans Spanish and is just now learning the language... you go, Roberto). the Norwegian played like she didn't know her shiz yesterday but then this morning I discovered her in a private 1-on-1 class with our teacher, and today she totally rocked it. the Brazilian girl has pretty much alrady advanced to a level 4 within a day, i swear. that leaves me beating out the other American. the 54-year-old. bah. regardless, learning all the verb tenses and vocabulary IS coming back like everyone said it would, so i am hopeful that my eventual progress is quick and relatively painless.

Spanish ends at 1, and my wine class starts at 3:30, so i smartly made my way to the Subte (subway) to get to the Belgrano neighborhood where my wine school was to give myself enough time. i know i said this before, but i can't stress it enough: a lot of streets are not marked here. you sometimes have to walk a few blocks just to see what direction you're walking in, while staring at a microscopic Guia T map, only to realize it was the wrong direction, turn around to retrace your steps, passing all the same locals who now know you do not know where you're going. it happened at least 3 times today.

i digress.

i finally figured out where Gorostiaga crossed Soldado de La Independencia and had enough time to enjoy a sit-down lunch and cafe con leche as well as complete my homework for the day. i also figured out the bus system for the way home since the Subte would be a bit far to walk at night by myself. then it was time for my wine class. well, actually, dos wine classes. the first was a "private" with Jorge, a sommelier/wine journalist/ex-lawyer. the class consisted of me and an American ex-pat named Sue who has lived in London for the past 20 years and has taken 2 months off of work to travel. she spent the last 5 weeks in Costa Rica and has an awesome combination Brit/American accent. we met with Jorge for 2 hours who had us blindly smell 20 scents and guess what they were. this will help us improve our sense memory for wine-tasting. we also tasted 3 very distinct Argentine wines and chatted about the Argentina wine history and industry as a whole. very informative. we then had a small break before the group wine class, which was to be in Spanish. Sue and I strolled around Belgrano, and i was able to buy myself a new pillow and towel since the ones the school gave me were shit. and as much as i like to think i can rough it, i really do need a good pillow and towel, at the least.

the group wine class is like my ultimate brain pain. 7 people (2 of us English speakers) discussing wine in Spanish, from what the red vs. purple color might signifiy, to if something was acidic or not, to how much a wine should cost. tough. shit. i think i understood... oh, 35% of what was said. i have faith this will improve as the days go on. i feel it will actually be my best learning tool thus far.

i also happily came home with a 3/4 open bottle of Cafayate Reserve Malbec that Jorge so secretively allowed me to stuff in my shopping bag. feels like Astor a bit. feels like home! ha, i kid, i kid.

I should be doing my homework but I'd rather do this instead

2 days in and i must say, BsAs. is. awesome. Well, awesome and confusing at the same time. A few observations off the bat:

1. the mineral water here tastes really "thick." kind of like Evian water. no me gusta.
2. young dudes have taken to wearing boardshorts around the city, with apparently no immediate plans on swimming. boardshorts in the market, boardshorts shopping the boutiques with their madres. hmm.
3. there is ridiculously beautiful graffiti, i guess something BsAs is well known for, and i have only just come to learn about and appreciate. uploading some pics for now, but plan to take the official graffiti walking tour.
4. there is a serious lack of stop signs in 4 way intersections ("they just go" Amy says) as well as an annoying lack of street signs. not very helpful when trying to find one's way around a foreign city in a foreign language.
5. old men linger outside their apartment buildings and shuffle up and down the street, much like they did in Salamanca. interesting, maybe a Latin thing.
6. haven't verified this, but it appears that you can't buy real Toms down here. very ironic, considering the story behind Tom's.
7. "closed restaurants" (the Argentine variation of the supper club) are all the rage. i was very fortunate to be added to Amy and Lisa's Casa Felix reservation at the last minute last night due to a cancellation. chefs open their house for a prix fixe, intimate dining extravaganza not open to the public. must email in advance, pay cash only, and arrive RIGHT ON TIME. dishes were sourced locally, focused on seasonal ingredients, and was mostly vegetarian (the adorable Chef Diego Felix grew up in a vegetarian household! very, very rare for Argentina). they do serve seafood. if you know me, you know this is my jam. i won't do the meal justice, but i'll try. an Argentine mint from the garden made its way into our caipirinhas, served under the moonlight in the garden by Sanra, Diego's American ex-pat wife. after a few rounds of sipping out of teacup sized glasses and enjoying an hor d'oeuvre of a local farmer's goat cheese served with artisinal honey and wrapped in chard (interestingly enough, kale doesn't exist here), we made our way to be seated in the courtyard, under colorful mexican-like paper decorations and christmas lights, a nice breeze, and a direct view of the action in the kitchen. Casa Felix was filled to the max, as they are almost every night, at about 20 people. first came the beet "ravioli" which was more like a sandwhich of thinly sliced beets stuffed with an almond and goat cheese mixture, topped with a fig and olive tapenade, alongside mixed greens. an amazing potato causa (a potato mash of sorts from Chile) followed, which was served with (i think) oyster mushrooms on top and a dangerously bright green spicy lemongrass sauce, also from the garden. octopus a la plancha served with grilled eggplant in a tomato sauce, made us venture outside our comfort zone and enjoy something we normally wouldn't have ordered. lavender and coconut creme panna cotta, with the lavender also right from the garden, way exceeded expectations, and was served with a sweet dessert wine. they topped everything off with the Paraguay version of mate, which from what i understand was burned in a pan and caramelized with sugar, which omitted the most amazing scent. i wish i could bottle it. after 4 hours at the Casa, we left with a perfectly satiated stomach, slight buzz, and total girl crush on Sanra, who is expecting her first baby in a month and is still knock-out gorgeous. they are for sure an Argentine power couple to watch - even the NY Times agrees.

Beuenas Dias from Buenos Aires

Friends of friends are amazing. After cleaning myself up post-flight, unpacking a few things in my college-esque apartment, enjoying my first empanada (pictures to come when I have more time) and perusing my neighborhood (hello, Fendi 5 blocks away), I met up with Amy. I was introduced to Amy vial email from Gabe, who I met through my friend Jared. Amy is also from NYC and has been here since June with her childhood friend Caitlin.(Mom, if you're reading this, Amy's dad Jeff Schulmann went to high school with you, same year. Know him?) Amy and Caitlin had a friend visiting from NYC, Lisa. (Mike Evans, if you're reading this, Lisa's boyfriend Andy works with you). This world keeps getting smaller.

After meeting up with Amy's language teacher and friend, Estefia, for my first Argentina pizza (meh), they brought me to my first Argentine boliche exerperience... pretty much what I expected. Lots of too-cool super sweaty 18-year-olds smoking cigarettes (and/or hash) hopping around, crazy laser lights, and really bad, then sometimes decent, music. They definitely played that old dance song, "All Around the World," which brought me back to freshman year of college.

Two bands played earlier in the night. First could have been shipped straight from Williamsburg and was actually pretty good. Each had their own, distinct, hipster haircut and tight jeans were the uniform du jour. Super tight jeans tucked into tight ankle boots and a loose 80s-style tank top (these are all the rage down here- 80s muscle tanks. Sweet). The second band was all about the accessories. Drummer wore no shirt but a loose orange cable knit scarf wrapped around his neck twice. Bassist wore a day glo orange rain suit (or something) with the hood on, and a set of chemistry lab safety goggles and high top black converse. Guitarist wore... oh something but I can;t recall. Running off to the San Telmo Sunday market with Amy and crew. Mas to come later!

Berkentina, Day 1

Estoy aqui! Still can't believe I'm finally here, and am still waiting for the other shoe to drop... but in the meantime, I'll blog. I apologize for the upcoming long posting. While the flight was amazingly effortless, it was not without incident and I feel like I should clear my conscience a bit here...

The ever-diligent traveler, I had checked in online precisely 23 hours in advance and was happy to grab what I call the Sweet Seat. That is, the window seat in a row not too close to the bathroom and not in front of an emergency row (duh, those don't recline). To add to the sweetness, it was one of those great long-distance planes that have a 2/5/2 layout so even at a window seat, I'd only have to climb over one person on my way to the john. Upon boarding the plane, however, I see a chick my age-ish sitting in my seat, 24J. I politely inform her of her mistake, and she looks at her ticket and she sees she's supposed to be in 26J, how silly of her.

Seeing that she had a boring looking elderly man sitting in the aisle seat next to her, I graciously told her to, please, stay there, and I'd take her seat, which had yet to have someone seated next to it. As I happily maneuver to her window seat, the water bottle attached to my bag somehow popped open and began splashing water all over the aisle seat. Mortified, I immediately try to sop up the water, but with what? The airline-supplied barf bag? No. The disposable blanket and pillow I would surely need for comfort for the next 11 hours? No chance. So I hurriedly swipe the water off the cushion with my hands, hoping that the cushion wasn't absorbent and whoever had 26H was not doomed for 11 hours of wet pants. I held my breath and busied myself with my trail mix and my book, pretending nothing out of the ordinary. I didn't have much time to think about it, really. Moments later, another elderly man made his way over and placed his bag in the overhead directly above me. He was wearing thick wool pants. Do I point out the water and risk having this man create a scene or demand my seat instead? Maybe those pants are so thick he won't even notice. What should I do? I felt like a Larry David character. The angel on my shoulder battled with the devil on the other. I did nothing. The man sat. I continued to read. He looked around. I read. He got up, fussed with his bag in the overhead. I read. He then felt his pants. I held my breath. He motioned to the stewardess that the seat is wet. My heart sunk. I am a terrible person, I thought. Mom, you raised me better than this! But... "No problem!" The stewardess sweetly responded and moved the gentleman to another aisle seat in the next section back, but in the front row, at the bulkhead. I looked back, he seemed happy with the seating, extra leg room! It was a win/win! He got a better row, I got two adjacent seats to myself, with an extra pillow and blanket to curl up in for the night. At which point I did just that. Lesson learned: in future flights, I will pour water on every seat next to me.

11.5 hours later, I step off the plane in (slightly) muggy Buenos Aires. Approach migraciones

and my heart starts beating. Do I tell them I want to stay more than the allowed 90 days? Just say 2 months? Say I'll be coming and going from country to country? The options raced through my head. I am so not good at lying to officials. I walk up to the available Caja 4. And find my nerves were for naught: after dutifully paying the $140 (one-time every 10 year) entrance fee, the Migrations dude didn't even ask me why I was entering his country, let alone how long I was staying. I probably could have worn a sign saying I'm a CIA spy and he wouldn't have noticed.

From there, the rest was gladly uneventful. Both bags came within minutes. "Customs" was a simple baggage scanner conveyor belt type thing. My school-hired chauffeur was outside Customs, bearing a sign embellished with my name. Well, almost my name. Lindsay Berk was close enough.

Enrique and I chatted in my broken Spanish during the 30 minute drive to my apartment in Recoleta, we laughed when I couldn't explain what I meant or couldn't think of the right word, and happily traded small talk about the weather (Yes! I still remember lluvia is rain! Balls! Why is it raining my first day here?!)

We pull up to a leafy residential-ish road with a Carrefour on one corner (amazing), a zapateria (shoe store!) and wine bodega directly under my building, and a Farmasita on the other corner. Caitlin, my school's program coordinator, meets us at the apartment, gives me a quick orientation of the city (uh the Guia T is quite intimidating to me right now... Sarah, help!), and apologetically tells me she forgot the keys to my room and has to go back to her apartment to get them, which is an hour or so away. The cleaning lady then showed up for the weekly clean (yep, that's right), but she didn't have a key to my room, either. The apartment has 4 bedrooms, each with a private key. I'm the second roommate to arrive. Tuhina, a 24-year old was on her way out, we exchanged a brief burst of girly dialogue about good it was to meet each other, and she was gone.

Which brings me to this long post. Hanging out in my new living room, balcony doors wide open (no A/C), cleaning lady mopping around me, wondering if I should go on the school's pub crawl or to an 80s party a friend of a friend from NYC invited me to... this seems too easy. I must have done something right in a past lifetime (perhaps not spilled water on my neighbor's seat?).

You've got balls!

If I had $5 for every time someone told me about the set of cojones I have for leaving my job and moving to Argentina for an indeterminate amount of time to pursue the dream... well let's just say a good chunk of my trip would be covered.

So here I am, at my last day of work until... well, who knows. Having worked in Corporate America without interruption (with the exception of the requisite 2 or 3 weeks a year) for the past six plus years, it will be quite liberating (and maybe a little scary) not having the stability of a cubicle and laptop welcoming me every morning. Rain or shine, July or January, DC or NYC, there was always a laptop, a cubicle, and of course an unlimited amount of free coffee.

But now I'm doing what so many people tell me they dream of doing. Of course I dreamed of doing it, too. That's why I'm doing it.

What IT is: study Spanish intensively for four weeks (hopefully just a refresher from my semester abroad in Spain in 2003), along with an introductory wine course, explore Patagonia for 2 weeks, and find a job in Mendoza's wine country just in time for the 2011 harvest. The first 6 weeks are in the bag, thanks to my savings account and a good amount of online research. After that remains to be seen.

Check in occasionally to see what happens... when people stop being polite... and start getting real. (Ha, who I am kidding? I was never polite to begin with.)