In the Waiting Line

No big new to report, my travel has been in kind of a slow down over the last week. I'm still in Buenos Aires planning to return to the States Friday/Saturday but there are some complications with the purchasing of my return ticket that have not been completely sorted out yet. I should know in the next day or two the final scoop. No worries, things seem to work out one way or the other down here.

It has only been over the last week that I have felt any strong feelings of what otherwise might be described as "homesickness". I can tell that it centers around two fairly normal phenomenon in my life. First, I have the curious habit of enjoying school, and about this time during the summer I am ready to return to classes. Perhaps it is more of a desire for companionship with my classmates than I would readily admit, but my brain also just seems to become board over summer holiday. I need more of a mental stimulus than books. Secondly, I have noticed in my life and in those of others that once the end of a period begins its eminent approach, there is an increasing desire to get it over and move on to the next enterprise. It's the concept of Senior-itis applied to all situations with an end point. Thus, I want to come back to the States as soon as possible simply because I know that soon I will be going back to the States.

Another curious habit of mine is to read books while I'm away on vacation or otherwise visiting a new and interesting place. I may enjoy doing this because instead of seeking out the most touristy places to visit I prefer to explore what it feels like to really live in a new place, the ordinary way, through simple, regular living. Maybe that is why I enjoy a good book in a foreign land. Until about two weeks ago I had refrained from reading any large amount of literature in English--allowing the regular reading of a translation of Petrarch's sonnets. But about a week and a half ago I gave in a started reading a translation of the Argentine writer Jorge Luis Borges' Ficciones. Since then I have finished the Ficciones and have started and just completed A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce. With just a few days to go until I return to the States, I may try to hold off any further reading--then again, this is the summer, my most open time for reading. We shall see.

Well, I'll leave any more or less great reflections on my time spent in Argentina for when I have actually returned to the States. That time could be within the next week or two, or it could be prolonged for another month.

Chau.

The Tomb and Other Things

I have now been in Buenos Aires for a full week.  If I haven't said it already, it is quite a change from Rosario.  The city seems to be a mass expanse of roads and buildings that slowly transforms into "neighborhoods".  But do not be deceived, these neighborhoods are not your cozy little two or three bedroom homes surrounded by a bright yard of green grass containing an oak tree in the front and a swing-set in the back.  No, they are small houses smashed up against one another, complete only with a stone courtyard of sorts on which to have an Asado.  (That part I really like!)  All in all, it's the difference between living in NYC and the suburbs of Houston.  But, the suburbs do have picturesque cobblestone roads that are pleasant enough.

I should let you know that I have been staying with a very hospitable family in the suburb of Lomas since I have moved from Rosario.  The family consists of Cecilia, the mother, Nicolás, the eldest son, and Joachin, the youngest son.  Cecilia teaches private English classes at several different businesses around BsAs, and I have accompanied her on a couple of occasions to give her students some experience speaking with a native English speaker.  Joachin has kindly given up his room for me, and Nicolás (who is only a year younger than me) has invited me to hang out with he and his friends.  They are very friendly, and I am glad to have found such pleasant hosts.

Now, on to the main event: This past Monday I had planned to go into the city to visit the Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes (the Fine Arts Museum).  Unfortunately, I missed a memo or something and discovered that the museum, and in fact most museums I was told, was closed on Mondays.  So, what better to do when your plans are thwarted than to visit the local cemetery.  (The picture of a large metal flower that you see at the end of this post was created by a famous Argentine architect and is in a park near the Museo -- it opens and closes with the sunlight)

Of course, this was not your run of the mill cemetery.  The Recoleta Cemetery holds the remains of some of the most famous people in Argentine history: Pellegrini, Mitre, and -- who was it that doesn't want Argentina to cry -- oh yeah, Evita.  It was a strange feeling walking around such massive tombs, many quite ornate but still succumbing to the passing of time.  Juxtaposed with this sombre, reverential aire were hundreds of tourists chatting, laughing, taking pictures with arms around graves.  

Typically I have some aversion to taking pictures of certain things or in certain situations.  For instance, no matter how beautiful or famous, I do not like taking pictures in cathedrals.  First of all, it is quite irreverent, and secondly, the picture only serves to degrade the magnificence of a more magnificent beauty of memory in the future.  Cemeteries fall into a similar category for me; however, I did eventually decided to take a few snapshots despite my moral objections.  And Evita's tomb...not that impressive.

Chau.

When In Argentina

You know that old saying, "When in Rome do as the Romans do."  Well, over the last couple of weeks I have forcibly had this maxim applied to my life in Argentina.  Don't get me wrong, I am all for trying new things: eating new foods, going to new places, learning new customs, etc.  However, the feeling is quite a bit different when, say, your actual stay in a country is involved.  I will explain.

As you read in my last post, the occurrence of Swine Flu in Argentina has caused the government to shut down all educational facilities.  Though it seems their fear is a bit exaggerated, I understood this when it happened and, as a temporary resident of this great country of Argentina, I tried my best to adapt to an uncertain situation.  What occurred next, however, has caused a bit of trouble for me.  

This past Friday, I was asked to leave ARICANA on the grounds that my family must be worried about the health situation and the institution did not feel they could continue feeling responsible for me under such circumstance.  What was more, I was told I would have to leave my apartment in three days.  If I wanted to stay in Argentina I could do so, but at my own expense and without connection to the institute.  So I began looking for people with which to stay.  

Unfortunately, in the few days I had in Rosario I was unable to say goodbye to all of the friends I had there.  But now, almost a week later, I have relocated to the capital city of Buenos Aires and am staying with a very nice family with whom I have become acquainted through Robert Hutchens, an administrator and friend at Maryville College.  I do not know exactly what I will be doing here or how long I will stay, but it is most likely that I will be returning to the States a couple of weeks earlier than originally planned.

I must say that I was very sorry to have left Rosario.  The friends I made there were more kind and generous than I could ever have imagined.  Although at times the barrier of language caused us to stumble in our conversation, their patience and willingness to explain to me the differences in their culture has created in me a strong attachment.  All that I can say is that I hope to return soon to these wonderful people (perhaps with better Spanish skills). 

       

Chau.