How the company you keep can affect your health

November 9, 2015November 17, 2015 / annagramsey / Leave a comment

The other day, a friend of mine asked me a question as she was preparing a health class for her students:

What do you think makes the biggest impact on your health: Your genes, your lifestyle choices or your environment?

I quickly jumped to “lifestyle choices”. Yes, your genes and family history may impact things about your health that you have little control over, but with a healthy lifestyle and conscious choices, you can lower your risks significantly. Same with your environment. You may not be able to control the amount of pollution in your city, or whether there’s a suspicious chemical lurking in your coffee mug, but you can make up for those things with regular exercise and a healthy diet, right?

I still think that lifestyle choices make the biggest impact on one’s health, but in the past month or so I have realized how much your environment in terms of the PEOPLE you surround yourself with can have a huge impact on your health and how easy it is to stick to the decisions you know are best for you.

Many of us know that loneliness and boredom can lead to “emotional eating”, and some of you may be lucky enough to not fall victim to that impulse, but for me, it’s nearly impossible. In the past year and a half or so, as I have reflected on my happiness and healthiness levels in different situations, there is definitely a correlation.

In times of feeling stressed out, bored, unhappy, or lonely, I have a significant tendency to overeat or reach for comfort foods to fill that void. If I’m feeling happy and surrounded by people I care about and who I know care about me, healthy food and exercise feels more like a nice thing to add into my day rather than something I dread and then counteract immediately with junk.

My first home stay was good, and I wasn’t unhappy there, per se, but I don’t think I realized how lonely I was feeling until I switched families. My firsts hosts were extremely nice, good people, but their alternative schedule (eating dinner at midnight, staying up until 4AM on a regular basis, and not getting up until 4PM) left me sleep deprived and spending many, many hours alone and bored. Combining their schedule with how difficult it has been to make friends here led to lots of Netflix binges accompanied by my dear old buddies – potato chips, chocolate, and way too much pasta. The fact that vegetables were a rare component in their daily diet definitely didn’t help things, either.

My new family has a more conventional schedule, eating dinner around 8:30PM and going to sleep by 11. We eat regular meals with a great balance of vegetables, meat and starches, and they love to be outside and take advantage of the awesome outdoor activities that this amazing city offers. These basic shifts in my mini “environment” have made a HUGE difference on my overall happiness and wellness in the three short weeks since I moved. I feel lighter, healthier and more balanced. And since I’m surrounded with positive company (yet still have a good share of alone time), I haven’t had one chocolate/wine/potato chip overdose extravaganza in my time here, a major improvement from how I was spending many Friday nights in my previous apartment. My first hosts’ insane nocturnal schedule only fueled the fire on my lifelong habit of staying up too late for no logical reason. Now, since the whole family has gone to bed by 11pm, it makes me go to bed significantly earlier, too, realizing how ridiculous it is to stay up until 2AM on a Tuesday night.

Obviously, YOU and you alone are in charge of your own eating, sleeping and exercise habits, but being surrounded by positive, balanced and organized people who share your goals and outlook can make it SO much easier to stick to healthy choices.

This will be one of the many factors I will be consciously examining when I move back home in a few short weeks and begin building my life again from scratch. Those who you spend time with DO impact your routine and your choices more than you may realize, so its good to keep that in mind when you choose to spend time with. If you surround yourself with positivity, you may find yourself emulating those good vibes more than ever before.

Travel solo, or maintain your relationship? You DON’T have to choose

November 3, 2015November 4, 2015 / annagramsey / 1 Comment

Why Relationships and Independent Experiences are NOT Mutually Exclusive

I came across this article the other day that made me say YES, THANK YOU! Finally, someone else understands. The author describes her frustration with the common viewpoint that it’s impossible to travel alone without inviting infidelity into your relationship, and I whole-heartedly agree with her.

Contrary to popular opinion, traveling or living abroad and being in a happy, monogamous relationship are NOT mutually exclusive. Yes, it has been very difficult being thousands of miles away from the one I love, but it’s been worth it for all that I’ve learned and how much I’ve grown as a person. I’ve had more than a few critics and skeptics, both at home and here in Argentina, and it’s discouraging that so many people misunderstand and react judgmentally.

Traveling abroad solo is NOT always about intrigue and torrid affairs. It’s about challenging yourself, growing as an individual, getting out of your comfort zone, and discovering what you love about you.

Having been in a relationship for six years, starting at the age of 19, in some ways I felt that I hadn’t yet really experienced “grown-up” life without my boyfriend by my side, and it was important for me to know what it’s like to navigate the world on my own. In addition to the fact that coming to Argentina to teach English for a year was a very positive way for me to gain career experience, it was also an important step for me to take in terms of self-discovery and feeling comfortable as an independent individual.

However, it would have been completely insane to throw away an amazing relationship for the sake of my travels, or vice-versa. I knew I would regret it if I gave up this important personal experience for the sake of avoiding the challenges that come with being long-distance. So why not do both? It is, in fact, possible.

When we think of solo travel, we imagine what we see in movies or read in romance and adventure novels. Staying in beautiful villas or cool hostels, meeting sexy, exciting people from all over the world, riding a moped around a city bathed in golden sunset light, staying out all night dancing, etc. These are what we tend to picture. But the realities are often much different.

We don’t think about the feeling of empty dread in the pit of your stomach when you’re sitting alone on the plane, thinking “What the hell did I sign myself up for?” Or when you arrive in your new city and have to figure out how to get where you’re going, all in a new language. Or when you arrive at your new apartment and put your stuff away, only to realize, “Wow, I really am all alone here.” Or when you’ve been in a new city for a month, but still haven’t made any real friends. How you cope in those situations is what really makes the experience. It’s hard as hell, and often really not fun at all, but you learn a heck of a lot about yourself and about the realities of the world.

You may go out dancing a few times, which, yes, is fun. But the appeal of foreign clubs dwindles quickly when you realize that you’re surrounded by aggressive men who don’t give a shit if you have a boyfriend or not, the vast majority of which are far less charming and far more creeptastic than Javier Bardem or Hugh Grant would have you believe. After one wasted Sunday spent sleeping and reflecting on the fact that you felt more uncomfortable than carefree being in da club til 7AM, cooking dinner with friends and some wine is much more likely to become your Saturday night routine. (Or staying in and watching Netflix on your laptop alone…did I mention it’s pretty hard to make actual friends in a different country?)

The point is, what people picture when you tell them you’re going abroad solo and what you end up actually doing are very, very different.

If your relationship is worth it, it will be solid and filled with enough trust, respect and mutual understanding to withstand long periods of time apart. If it’s not, then yes, it could be better to break up and take on your adventures once you’re single. But if you have an important relationship, why can’t you have your individual experiences and maintain your bond, as well? It really doesn’t have to be one or the other.

I have met lots of people (mainly women), who have told me that they wish they could or would have done some independent travel of their own, but their boyfriend wouldn’t “let” them, or they didn’t want to be away from their significant other that long. I’m not saying it’s easy by any means, and it’s not for everyone. But if self-discovery and having independent experiences is important to you, and your mate is the right person for you, they will understand and be happy for you. And there’s no reason why you can’t do it.

There will always be that distant aunt who has no idea where you’re going and what you’re doing. Surely, she’s picturing you dancing the night away in a short red dress in Ibiza or something rather than living frugally, working with kids, and being lonely but learning a whole lot about the world. And surely, she and others will make snarky comments to you and your significant other about how they’re being played for a fool or how they’re sure to leave you while you’re away. But the important thing is that you and your significant other know and trust each other well enough to know that that couldn’t be farther from the truth. If that’s the case, you will emerge on the other side with a bond that is stronger than ever as a result of, rather than in spite of, your adventure.

In the words of Kenny G, don’t let the haters stop you from doing your thang. We are young, and have plenty of time to settle down. Experience life, but don’t throw away a good relationship for the sake of doing so. If you put in the work, you really can have both.

Want to live abroad? Things to consider and where to start

October 30, 2015November 4, 2015 / annagramsey / Leave a comment

Since I’ve embarked on my adventures here, I have had several curious friends and acquaintances ask me about how I decided to come to Argentina, how I found my program, and basically, where to start if they were to begin a similar journey. I, too, was very confused at the start of this whole process, so I’ll try to share some knowledge and tips here to get you started if you are interested in teaching abroad or pursuing other abroad opportunities for an extended period of time.

Know your Objective

Are you looking to travel? Teach? Escape from reality? Challenge yourself? Work in your current industry, but in a foreign city? Break into a new career field? Learn something knew? Generally frolic and go wherever the wind takes you? You could and probably do have more than one answer to that question, but knowing what you are hoping to get out of your experience will help guide you a lot. If you are a free-spirited wanderluster hoping to travel as much as possible and not be tied down in any one place, you might want to think twice before getting an actual job abroad, unless its at a hostel or some other more transient situation. If you are hoping to gain career experience, try to identify specifically what you’d like to learn and weigh that in your choice of job/program and location. If you don’t like kids, don’t choose to teach!

While browsing your options, it can be easy to fall into the mindset that the program or activity you will be doing while in your country of choice is just a means to an end in order to get yourself there. It’s important to realize that while you will surely be experiencing your new country like a big adventure, you will also have to actually work and deal with realities of daily life while you’re there, so it’s important to choose a path to living abroad that you will genuinely enjoy.

Consider your Budget/Income Possibilities

Obviously, you will need some savings to travel/live abroad, no matter what you are actually going to be doing. However, different approaches require different budgeting plans, ideas of income, and how you will support yourself.

General Travel/Backpacking

If you have a whole bunch of savings set aside for this purpose, you are good to go, and can explore options such as general backpacking/hostel jumping from place to place, with the expectation of maybe picking up an odd-job here and there. This may sound dubious, but trust me, especially in Latin America, people don’t care so much about “breaking the rules” and you will probably be able to find some sort of part-time work, whether its in a hostel or restaurant or teaching private English lessons.

Teaching

If you are interested in teaching abroad, there are tons of options, and you need to narrow down what works best for you in terms of your goals and your budget. Many programs pay you a small “salary” (often in the range of approximately $700-800 USD per month), but then you are responsible for finding your own housing and living off that stipend plus whatever other savings you want to support yourself on. In many Latin American countries, that amount is enough to pay a modest rent and live frugally, but if you want to travel or go out it’s very likely you will need either a side hustle or savings.

Some programs, like mine, offer you room and board in exchange for your work, but pay you next to nothing, in which case savings or side hustle are also necessary for any expenses beyond the basics.

There are also lots of people who avoid going through a program all together and complete a TEFL course (either online or in their destination) which then helps them search for jobs. This could end up being more lucrative in the long-run if you score an actual job at a local school or language institute, but you also have to consider the stress/your backup plan if you end up being able to land a job because often times, TEFL courses will “assist” you with a job search, but don’t guarantee you’ll get one.

The “flying solo” approach is similar to the TEFL course option, although I’d only recommend this to people who either have already taught abroad in the past, or are very familiar with their destination and have contacts there/a very strong backup plan.

Other Options

There are many alternatives to teaching abroad, such as volunteering, interning, or some other form of work experience, and may allow you to customize the length of time you want to stay in a certain place. The budget you’ll need for these different options varies, but many of them offer housing/food in exchange for volunteer work (such as WWOOFING or various NGO’s).

Some organizations that accept volunteers cover your food and housing, some pay you a small stipend but require you to find your own housing and buy your own food, and others may be purely volunteer based, and offer no payment or benefits. This brings us back again to objective: do you REALLY want to work in a specific area for a specific cause, and have savings with which you could support yourself? Or is reimbursement a pre-requisite to you being able to go? If you look long and far enough, you may be able to find something in between.

Finally, of course, if you are able to get an actual job-job abroad, you will be making a real salary and then your hurdles will have more to do with getting a work visa in your country of employment rather than figuring out how you will feed yourself.

Choosing your Destination (General and Specific)

If you are seriously considering moving or traveling abroad for an extended period of time, chances are you have a destination (or few) in mind. Just like in steps 1) and 2), it is important to consider the realities of daily living in a different country and your objective there rather than just focusing on daydreams inspired by Pinterest and postcards.

All places, even beautiful, seemingly other-worldly ones, have risks, annoyances, and cultural differences that will greatly shape your experience when you actually get there. I’m sure you don’t want to move abroad to a miserable place, but it’s important to realize that the way you envision a place may not be 100% accurate.

Is your objective to learn and gain experience or to forget your worries and have a blast? I personally struggled a lot when deciding between teaching in Spain or in Latin America. Having studied abroad in Spain in college, I fell in love with the place and have been daydreaming about returning ever since I left. However, I knew that I would likely learn a lot more and have perhaps a more enriching experience if I went to Latin America. Ultimately, I chose the latter. While I have certainly had moments of being like, “Wow, Spain probably would be a whole lot nicer and more relaxing than what I’m experiencing right now…”, I still think I 100% made the right choice. While living in Argentina has been a lot more gritty and challenging than my time in Spain, I have learned a whole lot more from the experience. My satisfaction with my decision goes back to my original goal, which was to get out of my comfort zone, learn, and grow as a person, and I’m happy to say that I have done just that.

Bubble, Voids and Comfort Zones: Seizing the Moment to Create Your Best Life, Wherever You Are

September 24, 2015November 4, 2015 / annagramsey / Leave a comment

For me, one of the biggest challenges (and best lessons) of being here has been how to create the life you want when you are starting from square one.

In theory, I would have already done that when graduating from college – you enter the “real world” and it’s up to you to create the life you want, starting from a blank slate.

My slate was theoretically as blank as anyone else’s in that exciting yet terrifying moment of life. However, when I moved to DC, I was surrounded by an already well-established group of friends. At the time, I needed this cushion of comfort.

After spending some of the best times of my entire life in college, I was scared to leave all that behind and face the prospect of things “never being the same again”. Of course, it was true. I never would be in the same situation again. Now, I can see the pros and cons to that more clearly, but at the time, it was terrifying and I felt as though my entire world was crashing down around me and that I would never truly have “real” fun again.

Afraid of change, I clung to the remnants of my old life and hastily assembled a makeshift new one from fragments of what would and never could be the same. I was too paralyzed to see that this approach wouldn’t be as satisfying as building a new one that was new and solid and independent.

Leaving college is scary. When you’re a student, you live in this perfect vacuum where you’re constantly surrounded by your best friends as well as a pool of like-minded peers that you can choose from if you want to meet new people. Everything is pretty set up for you and life is like a comfy little bubble. When you hit the “real world”, however, things change. A lot.

When I graduated, it was like the bubble popped, and I felt like I was gasping for air as the iridescent pink walls of said bubble deflated around me. How would I ever have “real” fun again without 80’s parties, toga parties, day parties, and under-the-sea parties every weekend? How would I survive my chronic FOMO without having 20+ girlfriends available on speed dial at all times to accompany me for any activity imaginable, whether it be a long run, Tuesday night pitchers, late night library time or stuffing our faces with popcorn at 3AM while watching Aristocats? (I know, #tragic – the epitome of White Girl Problems. Try not to judge me!)

But still. I was sad.

Desperate to keep the shiny bubble alive, I swaddled myself in college friends in my new city and began a sort of adult life with training wheels. And don’t get me wrong, it was awesome! Even out of college, my friends are amazing and we have a ton of fun together.

But, while I was clinging to the old me, I forgot to work on building the new me, the adult that I would become. After a few years of this combined with a job that left me feeling un-fulfilled, I felt…empty. I wasn’t learning new things or growing. I was afraid to branch out and meet new people. Friday nights consisted of either yet another trashy TV marathon over some sort of carby concoction, or a night out within a one-mile radius of my apartment at one of three bars filled with people EXACTLY. LIKE. ME.

The strange Stepford-y reality of this new, make-shift “adult bubble” didn’t dawn on me until after I left, and then came back a few months later for a visit.

Of course, this wasn’t the fault of my friends or my coworkers or anyone else in my surroundings. DC is an amazing city filled with opportunity and diversity. But, because I had limited myself by only sticking with what I was comfortable with, I missed out on a lot of those opportunities.

After having been away from everything familiar to me for a while, coming back to something SO familiar was really strange and kind of depressing. It really freaked me out to be standing in a bar in a sea of people who could have been clones of me and my friends. In that moment I realized how good it has been for me to get away for a while and do something TOTALLY different. I needed to get comfortable out of my comfort zone in order to realize what things I want in my life and what things I don’t, and Argentina has definitely given me that perspective.

At the same time, it has made me appreciate all the things that ARE familiar to me so much more. Working stoves, actual use of turn signals on the highway, stop signs, cockroach-free houses, public bathrooms that have soap and TP, being able to (mostly) trust that if you call the police, they will help you rather than making things worse, and general organization in society all seem like such beautiful things now. Not to mention, having spent so much time away from people who see the world in the same way I do makes me CHERISH moments with my loved ones and even just anyone who’s a native English speaker.

However, being uncomfortable and being the different one in any given social situation has opened my eyes and pushed me out of the nest when it comes to where I will look for new friends in the future and how I want to spend my time when I get back home.

Being totally on my own has forced me to focus on filling my time with things that matter to me and make me happy. Because as much as I love Netflix, having binge-watching as your primary hobby is no way to go through life.

In Luján, I joined the gym for circuito classes. Not only did I love it, but it made me feel like myself again and gave me a routine to get motivated about in a town that was otherwise completely foreign to me and made me feel a bit depersonalized. Doing something I know and love allowed me to feel like myself again in what started out as a complete void.

Also, I learned another important lesson: that the best friends are sometimes unexpected. On paper, you may have very little in common with a person. However, if you bond over even one or two things, you might be surprised at how much you actually DO have in common, regardless of age, relationship status, motherhood, upbringing, etc.

Often, these unexpected friendships can be just as deep or even deeper than a casual relationship with a friend who may have everything in common with you on paper, but ultimately doesn’t push you to grow or think differently because you are already so similar.

It’s weird how places that start out as a void quickly turn into new bubbles, so it’s important to focus on what you do and don’t want to include in your new reality. Although there will always be things that are out of our control, it’s up to you to be the architect of your own life as much as you can.

Here in Madryn, it has been a challenge making new friends and getting involved in stuff in what is yet again a completely blank slate for me – and I’m still working on taking my own advice. Last night I went to a yoga class, and although it was in Spanish and in a completely new place, doing something familiar yet invigorating with totally new people once again made me feel totally alive and in the present. That has been another of my biggest challenges here. Its difficult to enjoy the moment while consumed with simultaneous homesickness and stress about what I’m going to do with my life when I get back home.

The yoga class was a good step toward my goal – embracing every moment I have to make the most of my new foreign bubble, because before I know it, it will pop again, and I want to come out on the other side stronger, more proactive and more self-aware than ever before.

24 Crazy Things I’ve Learned So Far About Luján (and Argentina in general)

June 4, 2015November 17, 2015 / annagramsey / Leave a comment

Coming to another country is always sure to involve some culture shock, but when I came to Argentina I really didn’t know what to expect. This is a list of things I have observed and been told about so far during my time here. Argentina is a wild and wooly place! (Disclaimer: obviously, these are observations coming from my own perspective. They are meant to be lighthearted, the impressions of a recently-arrived shanqui, so if you are Argentine, please don’t take these the wrong way! We’re all friends here 🙂 )

No one gives a crap about the rules, about being organized, or about the fact that whoever is supposed to know the rules doesn’t enforce them and often decides to make up random new ones on the spot.
A lot of the police are corrupt. I was told that if you ever find yourself looking to take a romantic pit stop with your special someone, don’t. Apparently cops (especially the local ones here in Luján) have been known to arrest, then kidnap and rape, women in this situation. As an alternative, go to a telo! (See No. 8)
It takes little to no training or education requirements to join the police force in this country. This probably explains No. 2, as well as the fact that we were told that if you ever get pulled over, just slip the cop a 100 peso bill and you’re off the hook. This also probably explains the policeman we saw driving in the middle of three lanes in capital, while simultaneously smoking, eating a sandwich and talking on his cell phone, with no seatbelt, while flashing his blue lights. Why leave all the fun to those lawless citizens, right?
The Luján riverfront is sketchy as F—this is what happens when corrupt government officials decide what gets invested in and what doesn’t.
It floods in Luján (like much of Buenos Aires Province), at least twice a year, and often the flooding reaches up to 7 or 8 blocks away from the river, right where my house is! (Yaaaaaay)
The cockroach should be the national animal of Argentina (or atleast BA Province…) They are freaking everywhere. It doesn’t matter how rich you are or how clean or beautiful your home is. They are everywhere.
A public bathroom with a working toilet, soap, AND toilet paper? SCORE!
Traffic rules don’t exist, nor do stoplights, street lanes, stop signs, or street signs in most places. There are also no seatbelts in the majority of cars. And to cross an intersection, people just flash their lights or play a shameless game of chicken to see who will actually slow down slightly just in the nick of time.
There are literal sex hotels (called Telos) that exist solely for the purpose of getting down, with rooms that can be rented by the hour. Everyone–from sneaky teenagers to philanderers, from parents looking for privacy to priests, swings by these places to get their love on…which brings me to…. Number 10:
Everyone cheats on everyone here, and no one gives a damn if you are taken. Relationship status is barely a bump in the road for an Argentine on the prowl.
The fact that so many people are so thin blows my mind, especially since the typical Argentine diet seems to consist of cookies, dulce de leche, whole milk, milanesas (aka fried steak), pasta, mashed potatoes, steak, gnocci, more dulce de leche, pastries, wine, and the best ice cream you’ve ever tasted. In the wise words of one Haystacks Calhoun, “Dulce de Leche is the Sriracha sauce of desserts: It’s hard to name anything that wouldn’t be improved by it.”
No one wears helmets, ever (on a motorcycle or normal bike), and five people seems to be the full capacity of a motorbike (and hey, why not bring the baby along!)
Expats who are natives of any Anglo-based culture (Brit, Aussie, Kiwi, Yankee, Canuck, you name it) are essentially alcoholics compared to Argentines, who may sip one glass of wine, Gancia or Fernet for over an hour.
The economy is so jacked up from inflation, and the peso is so ridiculously low in value compared to other world currencies, that a vast number of Argentines (even those who speak near perfect English) have never left the country, even to go to Uruguay, which is a hop, skip and a jump across the river from Buenos Aires.
The ABSURD contrast between the haves and the have-nots. Gated “country club” neighborhoods with insane security and houses that look like they popped out of Greenwich, CT with immaculate lawns, pools, tennis courts and Mercedes parked in the driveway are situated 100 yards away over the fence from shantytown slums with dirt roads, houses made of falling-apart plywood and plastic and piles of burning trash outside. The shiny, elegant streets of Recoleta are less than a kilometer from highway-side half-finished buildings with no back wall and no running water where you can see straight into people’s home from the highway. LandRovers driven by bottle-blonde trophy wives share the road with horse drawn carriages driven by a woman under 25 with no teeth and four barefoot children filling the cart with trash from the side of the road.
The electricity regularly goes out in neighboring General Rodriguez because people set up illegal businesses and tap into the town electricity wires via DIY jobs, resulting in the best case scenario in a temporary blackout and in the worst-case scenario in a fatal explosion.
Children regularly get kidnapped in shopping malls, and then sold for various gruesome reasons on the international black market.
There are stray dogs EVERYWHERE and I’m still shocked that they seem to have figured out a mutual system with cars, motorcyclists and bicyclists, and somehow manage to avoid being run over at the last second.
Abortion is illegal in Argentina, oral contraception is hard to come by and often frowned upon. Weed is legal in Uruguay.
Private schools are the only schools available for full day education and care. Public schools are only available either in the morning or in the afternoon, not both. Makes it kind of difficult for a lower-income parent to move up in a career and eventually make more money…while already higher income families are able to benefit from both parents being able to work all day long while their kids are at school.
The difference between private hospitals and public hospitals is INSANE… (although some public hospitals are great, if someone in the government decides they feel like giving them money)
Apparently, the fact that a lot of people are still traumatized from the dictatorship in the 1970’s is the reason why they don’t discipline their children too much – because they believe it’s too reminiscent of a military regime.
The 80 and 90’s have either made a SERIOUS comeback, or never ended. See: the insane popularity of rollerblading, mullets, shiny bowling shirts, scrunchies, acid-wash jeans, platform shoes, and stupid slogan t-shirts.
The gym teachers at the school look exactly like these guys:

The Power of a Pink Post-It: The ups and downs of working with Argentine kids

April 14, 2015November 4, 2015 / annagramsey / Leave a comment

Little by little, things have been looking up. I honestly do love being at San Patricio, despite the chaos.

One day, after a particularly tough bought of homesickness, when I had been in the midst of that punched-in-the-stomach pit of loneliness, and was seriously asking myself what I possibly thought could be gained from this, an adorable eight year old named Luisa presented me with this:

Who knew a sticky note could have so much power 🙂

I instantly felt better, and reminded myself why I’m here

It’s hard. And it’s supposed to be hard. And that’s part of the point. But the little moments like these remind me of what I want to learn from this experience – figuring out at least some parts of the life I really want for the long–term. And I’ve discovered the insanely refreshing beauty of doing something for work that genuinely makes you smile every day – and that this possibility actually exists.

Even the days when I’ve been thrown unsuspectingly in with the tiny demons (especially the second graders…), I take a deep, solid inhale (after 5 un-interrupted hours of insane stress and adrenaline), and I smile. Hell, I even laugh.

“Meees! How do you say ‘el shopping’ in English?”

“Um, ‘Shopping Center’, Olivia. ‘Shopping’ is an English word.”

“Meees! In my holidays, I go to Deeeesnay with my fam-i-lee, and we stay at Howard Shonson”

“Wow, that’s great, Facundo, but can you say ‘Howard JOHNSON’?”

“Howard SSShonson”

“Meeees, sos de China?”

“Ummmmm…..no, Maria Luz, what do you think?”

I can just have finished four hours of screaming “Coco! Toto! Felipe! Santiago! Santino! MARIA!!! SIT DOWN AND STOP HITTING EACH OTHER!”, and one of the kids (even sometimes one of the trouble makers I was yelling at an hour earlier) will come up and give me a hug and I feel 10x more fulfilled than I ever did leaving my old office building.

Luckily, these hilarious and heartwarming moments are mixed in every day with the bad and the ugly.

Some of these kids are so messed up, and have serious issues, and the lack of even the slightest enforced discipline or regard for authority for some of them makes me worry for their future and wonder how a society can function with kids that are brought up like this. These kids are 100% at the top of the social hierarchy in this town, so I can only imagine what kind of messed up issues some of the kids in some of the poorer public schools here come in with, but the rich kids have their own brand of problems.

Moms and Dads who are never emotionally present (and constantly jetting off to New York while a family 100 yards away lives in a plastic shack…), yet shower their kids with the newest iPad or whatever, resulting in their child doing whatever it takes to be noticed. I can only imagine how some of them must behave at home with their poor niñeras. If their parents don’t give a crap and let them do whatever they want, (even if its purely by lack of being there to say “no” or model what good behavior is), how they hell does anyone think they are going to listen to a teacher telling them to follow the most basic classroom rules like sitting in their seat, not yelling over others when they try to talk, and not hitting their classmates?

Since when can a seven year old look at an adult with the eyes of an arrogant, pompous grown man and make you feel like an insecure, blithering idiot??? Since when does a kid blatantly and intentionally ignore a teacher who is calling him by name and making direct eye contact from just across the desk? You can spot these kids from a mile away, and after you’re done being infuriated by them, it’s impossible not to feel incredibly saddened. By yourself for caving in to yelling, but not knowing what else to do as an alternative, at their parents for raising them this way, at the school for allowing this shit to fly, and at them for being a tiny asshole! And at the fact that this is where our society is heading (at least a whole bunch of it…)

But so many of them are so, so, so freaking sweet, smart, kind and funny. And watching them learn and grow and improve even on a week-to-week basis puts a huge smile of my face.

I used to feel like I was stuck in an endless rat race, like I was spending countless hours doing nothing but slowly getting older, and not gaining much from it. Pry myself out of bed, painfully exhausted, race to work, spend all day in a weird purgatory of the longest day ever in which nothing happened at all, waiting for the countless hours to pass before I could race home, stress out, stay up too late watching stupid reality TV as I tried to forget my woes, and then go to bed anxious and exhausted so I could do it all again the next day. At this school, I feel happy and excited and like I’m really LIVING and doing something that matters every day. I can see my efforts paying off, and the reasons why I’m there are right in front of me with their goofy (sometimes devilish) gapped smiles.

Knowing that there’s even a shred of a possibility that something I said or I did made a tiny impact on them makes me feel like I’m doing something real – a huge, huge change for me, and one I need to hold on to.

Narrowly dodging the ketchup bottle…and trying not to sink

March 31, 2015November 4, 2015 / annagramsey / Leave a comment

The first few weeks have been…tough, to say the least.

The school is definitely a lot of fun, and by far the best thing about being here so far, although I definitely feel like a fish out of water. It’s a pretty big difference from my former life in multiple ways…good and bad.

The good: Being surrounded by smiling children who all speak in cute Argentine accents, stepping outside between every class in the lovely sunny courtyard, hearing Castellano everywhere, and spending all day at work interacting with people directly makes me feel so much more alive than I did in my former daily life.

(Side-note: is it me or are kids with accents automatically 10x cuter? I spent some time with my Irish second cousins last year who are ages 10 and 12 and those mini brogues of theirs upped their already intense cuteness level to about 1000%.)

The bad: The Argentine version of “organization” at an administrative level is pretty much non-existent…laughable even. The first few weeks of teaching have consisted of me frantically wandering around campus trying to figure out where I should be at any given time, since the “schedule” they gave me changes every single day and it seems that no one ever knows anything about what’s going on or who’s supposed to be where at what time, or even whom I can ask to find out.

My fellow teachers are kept just as much in the dark about everything as I am, so if I can’t figure out where I “should” be, I usually just pick a class and go there until one of the administrators tracks me down. This usually progresses to being scolded, “Yes, of course, darling, you should be in Marcela’s class in Quinquela Martin now! Yes yes yes. Thank you” [Walks away].

Oh, of course, silly me!! Sorry, Nuni, I forgot my mind-reading pills today. Just a few questions… Who is Marcela? Which classroom is that? Who’s Quinquela Martin? Which grade is that? What are they working on? Is there a book I should have? Do I stay just one period or more? When is the period over? Where do I go next?

And… it gets even better. In a few instances, after this course of events, I have arrived at said mystery classroom (after I finally figure out where it is…) only to discover that – Surprise! – the teacher I’ve never met is absent. YAY!! “Okay,” they say, dropping me like a piece of bait into a piranha tank of 8 year olds, “let us know if you need anything!”

Umm….just a few things!!

The first time this happened, it was a fourth grade class of hyperactive locos. It deteriorated almost immediately after the kids quickly realized I had no idea what they were working on in class, and my attempt at covering the most basic topic using goofily drawn cartoons on the board failed miserably.

“MEEEEEEES!! MEEEEEES! NO ENTIENDOOO! NO QUIEROOOO”, they shout like a chorus of angry baby geese. They make fun of my accent, hit each other, throw things, roll around on the floor, shout over me, steal each other’s pencil cases, and I end up shouting at them in a weird mix of Spanish and English which just makes them laugh at me even more. I try to appease them by playing a game of Pictionary on the chalkboard, but that goes downhill just as quickly as they practically kill each other fighting over who is on whose team and which team gets which side of the room.

After shouting doesn’t work (and I feel terrible after having given in to that in the first place), I try a new approach of waiting patiently with my arms crossed for them to be quiet, until Bauti is hitting Lauti because he ripped his book, and I have to dive in and physically separate them, yelling “BASTA!! Chicos!! No peleamos en clase!!” to which they collapse in a fit of giggles. Despite what I thought was my relatively good level of Spanish, I probably sound like Borat to these kids.

UGH! This one particular morning was topped off by a lovely experience in the cafeteria, where the babysitting continued. I was sitting at the head of the table after finally getting the mini Argentines to sit down and start eating in relative peace. I’m minding my own business and focusing intently on my salad from the salad bar (which is actually really good!), when I look up to see four or five of these same boys all leaning in staring at me and silently giggling as they sit with a ketchup bottle ready, aimed and about to fire straight at me. THANK GOD, I looked up right before the iron eight-year-old dirty fist squelched down on the bottle and narrowly avoided being showered with ketchup on my 5^th day at the school.

That was definitely one of the moments when I almost cried, although I held it together in public, luckily.

But these past couple of weeks have involved lots more crying than I ever thought I would do. Turns out, moving halfway across the world and having only one friend that you just met is Really, REALLY lonely. I should have known this before I left, and on some level, I did, but I have never experienced such long-standing homesickness and loneliness like this.

I always have a really tough time with transitions and I have always hated saying goodbye to people and places I love, but usually once I arrive in the new place I get comfortable really quickly, almost in an “out of sight, out of mind” kind of way. Even when I went away to college, I felt instantly comfortable and at home. Coming here was a different story.

It sometimes feels like I’m in a box of isolation at the bottom of the ocean, and I can see my loved ones and the comfort of my former life through the blurry surface of the water far above me, but I have no hope of swimming to the top. And it was my choice to dive down here. In fact, I had been daydreaming about and planning for this dive for the past decade of my life!

As hard as it is, I know that I came here for a reason, and that I’ve had this dream for a reason. This whole experience will surely be transformative in some way, I just need to ride it out and accept the discomfort until I figure out what the point of all this will be.

First Impressions of Lujan- What now?

March 14, 2015November 4, 2015 / annagramsey / Leave a comment

We arrived in Lujan early on Saturday morning, tired from a week full of fun in Buenos Aires and not quite knowing what to expect.

Cristina brought us over to the station for the mini bus “Combi” – the more expensive way to get back and forth from downtown to Lujan, which costs only about 80 ARS (approximately 8$ US) and boasts air conditioning, a slightly calmer crowd, and a station near the obelisk. Of course, my GIANT suitcase barely fit on the minibus…resulting in a highly embarrassing and classic moment in which myself, the bus driver and Cristina (saint that she is) were heaving and hauling for five minutes to get it on board. I wanted to crawl under my seat and die from embarrassment, especially when it became apparent that the only place on the bus the bag would physically fit was on the floor in the aisle, and one elegant-looking Lujanera loudly complained to the bus driver that he was compromising all of our safety by blocking the aisle. At least she left out the part about the stupid Americans. Making friends left and right and entering Lujan with a bang, woo! Anyway, the fact that Amanda and I made conversation so easily on the hour-long journey was a reassuring sign, since we still didn’t know each other too well yet at this point.

When we pulled in to “downtown” Lujan and hopped off (very tentatively) at what we were hoping was our correct stop, we felt completely like fish out of water. Here we were on the grass curb of someone’s house, sticking out like sore thumbs and with all of our giant bags, and it wasn’t even 10AM yet. After a few minutes, Carla pulled up in her car (as Cristina had promised that she would, although we weren’t so sure at first), and drove us a few blocks to our apartment. We were greeted by Veronica, one of the other school administrators, and Betty, the landlady, and once again I suffered the self-inflicted humiliation of having packed wayyyy too much crap as I hauled my bag up the stairs hoping I wouldn’t drop it and crush somebody.

The apartment is fine, with nice hardwood floors and big windows. The kitchen and bathroom are pretty dingy though, and it took us several attempts to get past our somewhat irrational (or maybe not) fear of the gas stove, which you have to light with a match. We were pleasantly surprised to see how nice the place is, until Betty showed us the cleaning supplies left behind by the previous tenants….complete with…ROACH SPRAY!! Yaaaay! And the can was almost empty. Yuck yuck yuck yuck. My heart sank and my irrational battle with these little demons began. But at least we have wifi! After giving us their respective phone numbers and asking us if we had any questions (ummm….no? I don’t know what questions to even ask at this point?) they said goodbye with a cheerful bustle of hugs and cheek kisses like a bunch of clucking hens and then left. And we were on our own in Lujan.

So what now? We were starving and hadn’t eaten yet. We decided to go out on a quest for breakfast, which in Lujan (or anywhere in Argentina) is quite a difficult feat, more than you would think. We went around the block a few times, struggling to orient ourselves with the lack of street signs, until we finally stumbled upon a café called “De Ja Vu” which only had about two other customers. We realized that it looked much more like a bar than a café, but it was the only thing we could find that was open, and we were hungry. We got some good coffee, but unfortunately, like everywhere else in Argentina, it’s pretty much impossible to find anything for breakfast besides medialunas (croissants), which are delicious but not exactly a hearty meal. We sat for a while, people watching out the window, and began to realize what a strange little place Lujan is.

As people started to emerge on to the deserted Saturday morning streets, we saw dreadlock mullets, packs of Argentine bros (the bro love is strong here- more on that later), horse and buggies filled with trash, and a family of four on a motorcycle, with the young mother on the back loosely clutching an infant in her arms in such a way that it looked like he would tumble on to the pavement the next time they hit a bump. We also witnessed about three almost car-crashes within about a half an hour, due to the complete lack of street signs, traffic laws or turn signals.

Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore….

After people-watching with stupefied looks on our faces for about an hour, the café started filling up more and we started to feel like animals in a zoo- we definitely stuck out, and the other clientele started staring us down, so we decided to leave.

We spent the rest of the day unpacking, attempting to get settled in, and walking around. We went to check out the basilica, which is pretty much Lujan’s one and only attraction, and completely comes out of nowhere. The rest of the town makes you feel almost like you’re in Mexico or Puerto Rico, (much more “authentically Latin American” than Buenos Aires) and then out of nowhere this huge plaza opens up with this enormous pink sandstone cathedral. Although noticeably much newer than cathedrals of similar grandeur I’ve seen elsewhere, the stunning and elaborate gothic architecture seems more like it belongs in an ancient European village than in this strange little town in the middle of Argentine farmland.

Apparently, it’s a really big deal, though, and every year twice a year, thousands of people make a pilgrimage journey on foot to come see it and get #blessed. The story behind it is a little stupid – sometime in the 1800’s, some dudes were transporting an important statue of the Virgin Mary from Buenos Aires to somewhere else, and miraculously, their horse and carriages refused to move any farther than this spot by the river about 60 kilometers from the capital. They deduced that it must be a blessed spot, since the Virgin Mary refused to move from this hallowed ground, so they said, “Yay! Lets make a huge-ass cathedral and build a town around it!”

Cynics/horrible people we may be, Amanda and I were speculating that maybe the guys with the horse and carriage just drank too much beer and didn’t feel like going any further and, or one of them forgot to bring the horse food, or something like that that they couldn’t tell their boss…so they said “Praise be! Let’s build an unnecessarily large and expensive church in the middle of a field to cover our butts!” No offense whatsoever to Christianity or Catholicism, but this seems like a slightly more realistic, not to mention more entertaining, version of the story…

That night we didn’t know what to do with ourselves, and were skeptical about going out anywhere, since Carla had told us “don’t go out late”, but we had failed to ask what her definition of “late” was. Does that mean after dark? After 8:00? After midnight? Or should we just not leave the apartment at all since we’re blatant yanquis and might as well have targets on our backs? We called her up to clarify and ask for a restaurant recommendation, and determined that we could go out after dark but shouldn’t stay out past midnight, and that there is a good place to eat called “El Mason” about a block from our apartment. Ok, easy enough, we can handle this, we thought.

45 minutes later, after wandering in all directions on the street sign-less blocks surrounding our apartment, we finally found the restaurant she was talking about- which was, as she had said, less than 100 meters from our house. ‘Doh!

El Mason is probably the nicest restaurant in “downtown” Lujan, with surprisingly trendy décor and a nice outdoor patio. I was not exactly expecting the quantity of bugs everywhere, though, buzzing around the streetlights in giant swarms and crickets hopping around everywhere, even inside such a nice restaurant. I guess that’s what rain + weeks of intense heat + river + farmland creates, though. Oh, and there were stray dogs wandering in between the white, candlelit tablecloths. I was comforted by the delicious homemade pasta with Bolognese sauce washed down with the first of many bottles of vino tinto that Amanda and I would split, mixed with good conversation. We arrived home safely, but were unpleasantly surprised to find the apartment buzzing with swarms of gnats, mosquitos and crickets, though, after we made the mistake of leaving the windows open all afternoon. Lesson learned! That night was my first of many tossing and turning with the sheet pulled all the way over my head.

I know, I know, I’m a total wimp. But hey, at least I admit it.

The next day, we ventured out to a grocery store we found just down the street from us, although we would eventually find a much better alternative. This one was really small and pretty dirty, with a sad collection of produce. We stocked up on the bare essentials, and mostly canned and dried foods.

The owners of the store were a Chinese family, and we were pleasantly surprised to see some fellow foreigners, although the cashier didn’t understand me when I repeated about five times “Somos de Estado Unidos” after he asked where we were from. I guess English to Spanish to Chinese doesn’t translate that well.

After our first successful but odd home-cooked meal of soup from a packet and rice, eaten out of Tupperware (its like camping, yay!), we spent the rest of the day people watching in the park in the sweltering heat. After three hours of this, we wandered down to the riverside, where all of the people were! That explained the somewhat strange lack of people in the rest of town. They were all by the river for this international food festival thingy, which, like the basilica, seemed to come out of nowhere! It was packed with people, stray dogs, and food stands from a surprisingly diverse number of different foreign countries and regions of Argentina. We were tempted by the frozen tropical drinks from Haiti and the Dominican Republic, but ultimately settled on some German beers due to the long line and lots of flies buzzing around the sweet fruit overflowing on the counters.

The riverside is…strange. It looks like it probably was really nice about 30 years ago, but since has been tainted by pollution, littering and a lack of updates, which collectively makes the surrounding attractions (especially the old amusement park) look kind of creepy. We noticed some strange white lines on all the trees, about three feet up, which we assumed had been painted, only to find out later that…those are the results of the intense flooding, which happens several times a year! Woohoo!! After taking a look around, the intense asado smoke and swarming flies and mosquitoes made us head back to the apartment.

Lujan is definitely a lot to take in, and the level of difference from Buenos Aires (especially coming from the US) is a bit overwhelming. We still are fresh off the boat, however, so I am trying to keep an open mind and remember that I signed myself up for this and living abroad to teach English is something I’ve wanted to do as long as I can remember. I’m sure Lujan has its charms.

I guess we’ll just have to see what we’ve gotten ourselves into here…stay tuned.

Orientation Week in Buenos Aires

March 12, 2015November 4, 2015 / annagramsey / Leave a comment

The orientation week in Buenos Aires was amazing. Sunday afternoon I went over to Hostel del Sol escorted by Roberto, and although I was a little nervous, as soon as I met our group I felt instantly comfortable. There are only four of us- Will, from Australia, Marc, from London, Amanda from Texas, and myself. Cristina, the director of our program, is just as wonderful as she sounded via email. I was relieved to see that my internet sleuthing to track down this program was successful, since I had a secret fear in the back of my mind that the whole thing would turn out to be a huge scam or we’d be sold into slavery upon arrival- luckily, that was definitely not the case 🙂

We spent the first afternoon walking all around Buenos Aires. We first headed over to San Telmo market, passing by the famous Obelisko and Casa Rosada (Presidential Residence) on the way. The San Telmo market happens every Sunday, in this beautiful historic neighborhood, with blocks and blocks of vendors selling jewelry, art, leather goods, Mafalda paraphernalia, mate gourds and any other craft or souvenir you can think of. There are food vendors selling choripan, empanadas, fresh orange juice and grilled steak, and the streets are bursting with colors. The cobblestone streets were bumpy and uneven, so I admit that I spent more time than I would have liked staring at the ground in an attempt to not wipe out or injure my toe. If I hadn’t been so busy with that and with clutching my bag for dear life out of paranoia over being pickpocketed, I would have made more of an effort to absorb the sights, sounds and smells all around me. It was beautiful but a little overwhelming! We stopped at an outdoor asado for an absolutely delicious lunch of choripan – chorizo fresh off the grill on crusty French bread with chimichurri.

We then looped over to Puerto Madero, a ritzy port area next to the university, where artistic bridges crisscross the river, which is lined with expensive steakhouses and million-dollar apartment buildings. We crossed a footbridge, which reminded me a lot of the one in London, and then passed through several lush parks until we reached Reserva Costa Nera, a park/nature preserve which winds long the river. There were a fair amount of mosquitoes that made a nice meal off our pasty gringo flesh, so we had to hightail it out of the area that snakes along right by the river. After trying some of Argentina’s famed helado at Freddo (which is just as good as if not better than the gelato in Italy!), we made our way back to the hostel and finished the night off with pizza and Quilmes (Argentina’s version of Bud Light) on the roof patio of the hostel.

The rest of the week was filled with Spanish classes in the mornings and teaching class in the afternoons at Vos Spanish School, which was about 2 blocks down the road from Hostel del Sol on Calle Marcelo T de Alvear. The school is a charming oasis filled with bright colors, friendly teachers and fellow travelers, and an excellent resource for anyone trying to find their way as a foreigner among porteños. I would definitely recommend Vos to anyone who comes to Buenos Aires and wants to improve their Spanish. The teachers at Vos help divide students into classes based on level after taking an online placement test, which seemed to be pretty effective and accurate, since each of the four of us in our group were placed in different levels and all of us found our respective classes to be the right balance between challenging and level-appropriate.

My class consisted of Andres, a charming former Off-Broadway light designer from NYC, and Elisabeth, a cool woman from Texas who moved to Buenos Aires with her husband and kids. They have so far turned out to be the only two Americans I have met here besides Amanda! Our two alternating teachers, Carmela and Luciana, were both wonderful and gave us a crash course in porteño Spanish, running the gamut from everyday grammar and vocab differences to (sometimes dirty) slang. Our morning sessions were based around conversation, with lessons and in-context corrections peppered in throughout – which, in my experience, is BY FAR the best way to practice and improve!

Between the classes at Vos and being able to chat with Cristina and her friends every night, by the end of the week I was feeling pretty well into the groove with my Spanish!

Each night of the orientation week we had a different activity. The first one, I have to say, was my favorite. Monday night, we went to a drum concert/massive party called La Bomba de Tiempo. Apparently, it happens every Monday night, which gives you a pretty good insight into Argentine nightlife in a nutshell…

I’ve never been to anything like this in the states, but the only circumstance under which I can imagine something like this taking place at home would be on a really nice Saturday afternoon in mid-July that you spend the rest of the year reminiscing about and thinking how nice it would be if events like this were available all year round. The fact that this happens on a Monday night and every week year round!? Bienvenidos a Buenos Aires!

So what exactly is this mysterious event, you ask? It takes place in a giant, industrial looking, half-outdoor venue called Konex (an old factory, I think), in the middle of the city, with a stage, a bar and lots of open space. The bar sells giant cups of Quilmes or Fernet with Coca Cola, and the place is crawling with an interesting mix of expats, hippies with long dreads, grooving Brazilians, Argentine 20-something’s, and the occasional 50-something girls night out.

The main act is a large band of musicians playing various African drums, for 3 hours straight, and except for the occasional pocket of intense and dedicated (probably “enhanced”…) dance moves, the crowd dances and sways casually in a way that is consistently fun but never overwhelming or too crazy. The “chillest” but most sustainably fun dance party I’ve ever been to! And the admission costs the equivalent of 7 or 8$ USD. Every Monday night.

Check out the video here.

Nightlife in Buenos Aires makes DC look pretty boring pretty quickly!

Tuesday night, we checked out another one of Buenos Aires’ most wonderful attractions, El Ateneo. This beautiful historic theater is now home to an amazing bookstore, a literature nerd’s dream. The wonderfully unique architecture of the theater is entirely preserved, while offering multiple floors of books in all topics, even with a kids’ section. Of course, the books are all in Spanish! But the best thing about it is that it’s designed as a free place to hang out and read for all citizens.

This means you can come hang out and read (or write or whatever) for hours on end in the café (situated on the former stage) without having to purchase a thing! No pretending to “wait for your friend” while an angry Starbucks employee stares you down or creepily sit in a corner Barnes and Noble bench, hoping that an employee doesn’t come hounding you about how they can be of assistance. It’s like a much nicer, cleaner library where you can read all kinds of books or enjoy the inspiring atmosphere without having to spend a dime or have a membership.

A pretty nice idea, right? Argentines have definitely mastered the art of always having something interesting to do outside the house, either alone or with friends, without having to break the bank to do so. This is kind of tough back at home, because it so often feels that if you want to go out and do something (especially in bad weather) it’s pretty hard to do so without having to drop a wad of cash. Maybe it’s just being in a new place, but it seems like it would be easy to avoid spending Sunday afternoons deciding between wasting away the day watching Netflix (but saving some much needed plata) or forking over a third of your weekly budget to avoid feeling like a lazy, uncultured bum. But maybe that’s just me… 🙂

After checking out El Ateneo, we went to dinner at a nice, authentically Argentine restaurant called Cumaná. They specialize in steaks, milanesas, etc (like every single other restaurant in this country….) but a also a good variety of regional dishes like modongo (stomach lining stew…Amanda was brave and tried this) and cazuelas, a hearty stew of beef, sweet potatoes, corn and onions. That’s what I ordered – and while it was delicious and a welcome break from the steady stream of straight up meat and potatoes I am already starting to get a little sick of, it was more something I would eat on a bitterly cold winter night (like I left behind in CT) than a sweltering, humid 85 degree night in Buenos Aires.

After this delicious but very hearty meal, we headed over to Temple Bar for an event called Mundo Lingo. In theory, this is a great idea- a language exchange event for language enthusiasts to have an opportunity to practice any language they want and meet people from all over the world for “cultural exchange”. When you arrive at the bar, you tell the people at the table which languages you want to practice, and they give you a sticker of the flag of each corresponding country for you to stick on your arm, which is fun and entertaining. However, the true intent of many of the attendees became clear pretty quickly. Amanda and I noticed how many of the people in the bar, especially guys, were wearing 7-10 flags. Impressed by their international savvy, we turned to Cristina. “Wow, these people are all so educated and good at languages! Here they are speaking English, French, German, Portuguese, Dutch, Swedish, Italian, Greek AND Russian! We only know Spanish, and that’s been hard enough to learn!” She laughed. “No, they don’t actually speak all those languages, those are just all of the countries that they want to meet girls from!” Ahh…gotcha. Well, now I feel slightly better about my own intelligence level, slightly naïve, and slightly worse about the state of humanity.

I can’t exactly say I’m surprised…. It’s just too bad that such a great concept that sounds like such innocent fun can’t remain un-corrupted by creeps. Although I guess that’s just life, especially in Argentina…

We did have a good time, despite the creepiness factor, but I will say that it was an extreme crash course in the realities of Argentine social life and the dos and don’ts of talking to Argentine dudes, especially if you are a taken lady like myself.

Apparently, as we “Chicas Shhhyanquis” learned the hard way (although it could have been much worse…), male-female platonic friendship barely exists here. Unless it’s your friend’s boyfriend, a co-worker, your boyfriend’s friend, or a family member, dudes and chicks can’t just be friends. Which makes me sad, since I genuinely appreciate having bro-time with my male friends back at home without worrying about things getting weird in any way. I hate that Harry from “When Harry Met Sally” may be right, at least in Argentina. Also, apparently, if you are at all friendly, even in a way that seems like nothing more than pleasant, polite small talk with someone who supposedly just wants to practice their language skills, it is interpreted like a giant blinking green light and a sign on your forehead that says, “Yes, kind sir, I would love to sleep with you!!!! Take me, I’m yours!”

We figured this out pretty quickly after being surrounded like sheep by a pack of hungry wolves while being bombarded with questions by dudes with little to no concept of personal space and to whom the phrase “I have a boyfriend” makes about as much of a difference as saying “I am left handed”. A lighthearted “fun fact”, perhaps, but far from something that takes you off the market. We learned later from Cristina and some of her friends that the best thing to do when approached by a random dude in a boliche (unless you are 100% interested), is to essentially, be a stone cold bitch and avoid so much as smiling at them, because no matter what words are coming out of your mouth, they will interpret the following equation: boobs+smile+no PRESENT man laying claim to her = green light. If, by chance, you forget to unlearn your basic human instincts of being politely friendly when someone says hello to you, and (gasp!) make the mistake of smiling, the next best approach is to mention how excited you are about your baby on the way. One sign of the threat of commitment and all of your creeper problems are solved! On the other hand, one can also take a tip from the brilliant Jenna Marbles and simply take this approach:

After about an hour of this, in this loud and crowded, American style “Irish pub” in ~~August~~ March with no air conditioning, Amanda and Cristina and I took refuge outside, while Will and Mark continued reveling in their successful chatting with sixteen year old Argie girls who mistook them for One Direction members due to their charming Brit and Aussie accents.

Outside the bar, we had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of an interesting fellow named “Tay Winters”, who, apparently, is a famous C list celebrity. In between hella’s, ch’yeah’s and na’mean’s, we learned that he is “on tour” in Latin America and has been having a terrible time avoiding crowds of screaming 16 year old fans of his enchanting remix of “Sex You Up”, and he lives down the street from Justin Bieber. Oh, and he isn’t drinking right now because “he’s using a few products at the gym at the moment.” You can check him out here! (Although can’t promise you’ll get a #f4f, that’s reserved for the few lucky ladies like myself 😉 )

Wednesday night we went to a tango show at a milonga called La Catedral. Milongas are tango bars, where a mix of locals and tourists come to watch and dance the Tango. Depending on the place, it can either be much more touristy and a full on show with a stage and an audience, or it can be a much more laid back venue where the majority of patrons are locals who just want to come drink Fernet and practice this somber and sensual national dance. La Catedral was a nice mix of both, and they also offered an hour-long lesson, in which we all partook.

For only about eight dollars, we spent an hour watching our instructors (a beautiful couple, both professional dancers, who are clearly madly in love) dancing so beautifully and intricately that it quickly became apparent how unlikely it is that any of us gringos will ever master it. I partnered up with Mark and Amanda paired up with Will, while Cristina and her friend giggled at us from our table. Mark and Will are certainly both suave and dapper gentleman (hi, guys, if you’re reading this!) but between the fact that I’m a bit taller than Mark with bigger hands and feet and he was feeling a bit nervioso about dancing in public, I kind of ended up taking over the lead role and we both spent the hour attempting to not stomp on eachother’s toes or make things awkward by making too much contact beyond one another’s shoulders in a dance that is, by nature, exceedingly sensual. I came to the conclusion that the tango is a beautiful, sad, sexy and soulful dance that is best left either to the pros or attempted only when one is learning with one’s Lovah, in which case making physical contact is a good thing rather than extremely awkward for both parties.

Thursday, we had some down time in the afternoon, and Amanda and I walked over to Elibet and Roberto’s apartment, which was only about 10 blocks from our hostel.

Thursday, I had been invited by Elibet to join her for dinner with some American friends who were visiting town. I had been slightly under the impression that it was going to be a family style dinner at the apartment, with Lulu and Patricia and Roberto and the whole gang present, but it turned out to be only she and I and the friends, and that she didn’t actually know them that well, they were more like friends of friends. They were extremely nice but significantly older and a bit stuffy…and it seemed clear that Elibet was busting out all the stops to impress them with her stellar entertaining skills. After a VERY nice round of wine and appetizers at a 5-star hotel where Elibet is BFF’s with the Matre’D (not joking…), I skipped out to meet up with the group in Palermo. Except for an unfortunate incident in which Cristina got her wallet stolen, it was a fun night spent in one of Palermo’s countless charming little bars scattered among big trees and winding cobblestone streets. After a few rounds of drinks, we kicked off a rousing game of “Never Have I Ever”, in which we learned how interesting and loco our little group is…some crazy stories, but I’ll leave it at that J

The last day, we wrapped things up at VOS with an asado on the roof of the school, packed up our things at the hostel, and Amanda and I went with Cristina to send off Mark and Will in the Retiro bus station. It is definitely a wild and wooly place, so I was happy to get a preview of it before we actually were taking a trip from there ourselves. The two guys had really long bus rides (8 and 12 hours, respectively, to get to Rafaela and Merlo for their placements), and poor Mark of course got stuck on a bus that broke down twice, making what should have not been that bad of a journey last something like 16 hours. Cristina and Amanda and I finished off the evening with margaritas at a Mexican restaurant called El Salto de las Ranas in Recoleta (very good, but definitely NOT like the Mexican food we can get back at home…), and called it a night before so we could get up early the next day to begin the next chapter of our journey in Lujan!

An amazing week in a wonderful city with four great new friends…and who knows what’s coming next!