From NYC to Mendoza, by way of Buenos Aires

From NYC to Mendoza, by way of Buenos Aires.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

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.

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