Oh man, it´s the first week of classes and now I realize that I´m in college again and this hasn´t been some bizarre, prolonged vacation. This is our ´´shopping time´´ which means we go to a bunch of classes and then pick 3 or 4 to take in addition to our mandatory spanish class. So far I´ve gone to 2 history classes and 2 theatre classes. The history classes are very tranquilo and pretty similar to our classes here; a room with 30-50 people and a professor lecturing. Insterestingly, so far all of my professors have been women. Cool, eh? The theatre class I just got out of was quite interesting. It had a focus of voice techniques and basically we spent the class doing various stretches and breathing and vocal chord exercises on the floor. All the students were, well, you know, theatre people just like in the US. All of them full of goofy, exuberant, awkward energy. It was pretty fun, seeing as how I was the only norteamericano present.
But enough of school, let´s talk about this last weekend. Wow. What a pair of days, especially saturday. So first we went on the group-sponsored winery tour. We went to a huge winery that had a great view over the dormant grape wines to the snow-capped Andes. Then we took a tour through the huge complex that went way down into the basement with the stacks of barrels and bottles of 80 year old wines. We drank samples all along the way that were really heady. Wow. The one strait out of the barrel was the best. Really thick and intesely woody. Kind of a bouquet of old newspaper or something. But good. Go figure. Then we took tango lessons from the most stereotypically italian guy you can imagine. Greasy hair, mole, profuse chest hair, etc. It was a good time.
Then there´s Saturday night. A group of us went to see Godwana, a reggae band from Chile. The concert was at the biggest boliche (nightclub) in South America, and it wasn´t hard to believe that claim. It was like an indoor stadium with bars and balconies and ridiculous lights. Anyway, the band was fantastic! Especially the singer. They all radiated such good energy and driving rhythm and not one person in the stadium wasn´t dancing. You all should check them out on the web. I{m sure they have a myspace or something. After the show, we stayed and danced to goofy techno and regueton hits in the most packed dance floor I can imagine until something like 5 am. And getting back to downtown Mendoza was quite the fiasco, but we got home somehow.It was absurd. Needless to say, I didn´t do much on Sunday. I did go see a local choir that sang some really bizarre, interesting pieces by local composers.
Well, there´s much more to tell, but I want to go home! I´m starving. Hope this finds everyone well. The next post, I promise pictures. Really.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Monday, August 3, 2009
Saludos!!
So, I´m rather overdue for an entry. About all I´ve said about Mendoza is that I´m here, and that I had the flu and was passed out the first few days. Well, now I´ve been here more than a week so lets see. Mendoza is a funny city. On one level, it´s gorgeous. To the west you can see the blue shadow of the mountains. Along every street runs ditces called acequias that carry water from mountain springs to water all the huge old trees that line virtually every street. The most popular is one that must be related to a sycamore- the leaves are a little different, but it has the same puffy balls of seeds and the same white bark with gray splotches. But yeah, even now, in the height of winter, it´s beautiful. I can´t imagine what it´ll be like when all the leaves come back. Every now and then, though, you come across a lot that isn´t irrigated, and are reminded that this would be a desert. The ground is like chalk and the plants are dry grasses and various bizzare cacti.
Then there´s the strange class consciousness. There are a lot of very fancy houses with patios and orange trees and tiled courtyards. But thing is, all the fancy houses are fortified. They all have black metal gates, bars across the window, barbed wire. There are a lot of clay walls that have shards of broken glass glued to the top. It´s not that this is a violent city. People generally do not own guns. But there´s a lot of theft. And when you get outside of the upper middle class neighborhoods where my family lives close to the city center, there are some very poor neighborhoods where the houses have stone walls and sheet metal roofs and broken windows. Also, there was no anti-littering campaign here during the 60´s. So the idea of not just throwing you´re trash in the street is pretty new here. The streets are pretty inundated with bottles and papers and whatnot.
But thus ends the bad things about Mendoza. Otherwise, it´s quite a place. Every single child plays soccer in the street. There are street signs with the image of a soccer player in the same way we have ¨drive slow: school zone¨signs. There´s a bus stop on every corner. Not that that stops Noah from taking the wrong one now and then and ending up on the opposite side of the city, but let´s say public transport is the norm, not the exception. The buses are huge and clunky and you´ll go flying when they take off if you don´t grab the bars fast. There´s also an electric trolley, which is much quieter, but no less clunky.
When I first got here, it seemed like American music was everywhere. The most random ten year old pop you could imagine. But actually, it´s getting better. ´The bus drivers generally play cantina music or requetón hits, or some tango-infused tecno. Whatever they play, you can get it involves an accordeon (sp?).
Two myths about Argentina debunked:
1. You have to eat meat all the time.
Untrue. It is true that most people eat a ton of meat, but there are vegetable stands on every street corner with tomatoes, cabbage, eggplant, strawberries, oranges, potatoes, etc., and generally it´s domestic produce, even in the winter (how nice to be by the ocean). Plus, since I have a single mom, she can be very accomodating (I still get to eat a bowl of oats every morning!!). Also, there´s a huge indoor central market where you can buy almost any kind of bean or grain or nut (peanuts, or manÃ, while not cheap, are available, and I carry a bag with me at all times). The only foods that don´t really exist here- nut butters and bread that isn´t white. Oh Uprise, how I miss you.
2. There aren´t any Indians- all Europeans.
Maybe true in Buenos Aires, but here there are a lot of Indians. They may not be officially recognized people still living on tribal lands, but I would say 50% of the people on the street have predominantly indigenous features. I definitely stick out more than I expected with my sandy brown hair and lily white skin. Yes, there are other people who look like me, but they probably are about as common here as Asians in Columbia. Not exotic, but not on every corner either.
Ok, blah blah. Last thing I must tell is how I spent yesterday afternoon. I finally got the hell out of the city (it´s a beautiful city, but still loud, a bit polluted, etc.). I took a 1 hour bus ride to a place called Potrerillos in the mountains. Basically, it left me at a lake in a valley with mountains on all sides. Not snow capped. Not that deep in the mountains. But huge. Think Arizona. Anyway, I waded into this crystal clear, frigid lake and then walked up to the edge of one of the mountains and started climbing. 15 minutes later I was way the hell up high and had a view of things very distant, including snow-capped peaks that turned pink as the sun went down. Ahh. When the day to day here gets me down, I´ve got that.
So, I´m rather overdue for an entry. About all I´ve said about Mendoza is that I´m here, and that I had the flu and was passed out the first few days. Well, now I´ve been here more than a week so lets see. Mendoza is a funny city. On one level, it´s gorgeous. To the west you can see the blue shadow of the mountains. Along every street runs ditces called acequias that carry water from mountain springs to water all the huge old trees that line virtually every street. The most popular is one that must be related to a sycamore- the leaves are a little different, but it has the same puffy balls of seeds and the same white bark with gray splotches. But yeah, even now, in the height of winter, it´s beautiful. I can´t imagine what it´ll be like when all the leaves come back. Every now and then, though, you come across a lot that isn´t irrigated, and are reminded that this would be a desert. The ground is like chalk and the plants are dry grasses and various bizzare cacti.
Then there´s the strange class consciousness. There are a lot of very fancy houses with patios and orange trees and tiled courtyards. But thing is, all the fancy houses are fortified. They all have black metal gates, bars across the window, barbed wire. There are a lot of clay walls that have shards of broken glass glued to the top. It´s not that this is a violent city. People generally do not own guns. But there´s a lot of theft. And when you get outside of the upper middle class neighborhoods where my family lives close to the city center, there are some very poor neighborhoods where the houses have stone walls and sheet metal roofs and broken windows. Also, there was no anti-littering campaign here during the 60´s. So the idea of not just throwing you´re trash in the street is pretty new here. The streets are pretty inundated with bottles and papers and whatnot.
But thus ends the bad things about Mendoza. Otherwise, it´s quite a place. Every single child plays soccer in the street. There are street signs with the image of a soccer player in the same way we have ¨drive slow: school zone¨signs. There´s a bus stop on every corner. Not that that stops Noah from taking the wrong one now and then and ending up on the opposite side of the city, but let´s say public transport is the norm, not the exception. The buses are huge and clunky and you´ll go flying when they take off if you don´t grab the bars fast. There´s also an electric trolley, which is much quieter, but no less clunky.
When I first got here, it seemed like American music was everywhere. The most random ten year old pop you could imagine. But actually, it´s getting better. ´The bus drivers generally play cantina music or requetón hits, or some tango-infused tecno. Whatever they play, you can get it involves an accordeon (sp?).
Two myths about Argentina debunked:
1. You have to eat meat all the time.
Untrue. It is true that most people eat a ton of meat, but there are vegetable stands on every street corner with tomatoes, cabbage, eggplant, strawberries, oranges, potatoes, etc., and generally it´s domestic produce, even in the winter (how nice to be by the ocean). Plus, since I have a single mom, she can be very accomodating (I still get to eat a bowl of oats every morning!!). Also, there´s a huge indoor central market where you can buy almost any kind of bean or grain or nut (peanuts, or manÃ, while not cheap, are available, and I carry a bag with me at all times). The only foods that don´t really exist here- nut butters and bread that isn´t white. Oh Uprise, how I miss you.
2. There aren´t any Indians- all Europeans.
Maybe true in Buenos Aires, but here there are a lot of Indians. They may not be officially recognized people still living on tribal lands, but I would say 50% of the people on the street have predominantly indigenous features. I definitely stick out more than I expected with my sandy brown hair and lily white skin. Yes, there are other people who look like me, but they probably are about as common here as Asians in Columbia. Not exotic, but not on every corner either.
Ok, blah blah. Last thing I must tell is how I spent yesterday afternoon. I finally got the hell out of the city (it´s a beautiful city, but still loud, a bit polluted, etc.). I took a 1 hour bus ride to a place called Potrerillos in the mountains. Basically, it left me at a lake in a valley with mountains on all sides. Not snow capped. Not that deep in the mountains. But huge. Think Arizona. Anyway, I waded into this crystal clear, frigid lake and then walked up to the edge of one of the mountains and started climbing. 15 minutes later I was way the hell up high and had a view of things very distant, including snow-capped peaks that turned pink as the sun went down. Ahh. When the day to day here gets me down, I´ve got that.
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