The Political Situation of Argentina

It has been a very interesting past couple of weeks down here in the A-land.

First off, Argentina had its tornadoes for the first time ever.

Secondly, we are running out of meat. Seriously. All those wonderful steaks that I was hoping, aspiring, to eat... gone. Why? you might wonder. Well....

In 2001, the Argentine economy went under big time. Basically it was like our Great Depression in the early 1900s. Millions of people lost their jobs, their security, all the money in the bank. The government switched hands several times, and when it began to settle down, the biggest lucrative sector of the very sick, dead economy was agriculture. So the government started to tax the farmers more and raised exportation taxes, thereby gaining money to help refuel the economy.

That's the story depending on who you talk to. First off, even though the farmers were making all the money, thousands were getting foreclosed on and tricked by the banks. Also there is a very strong movement that suggests that a high percentage of the money the government is getting is going straight into the pockets of the high officials.

Well about 2 weeks ago, Cristina Fernandez, the current Argentine president, passed a law saying that the government was going to raise the taxes even higher. Farmers now pay approximately half of their earnings to the government, all while still living in poverty.

The farmers decided to go on strike. They've been on strike for about 2 weeks now. A lot of people who went out of town for Semana Santa (Holy Week) will tell you how their 10 hour bus ride turned into a 20 hour bus ride because of all the road blocks and protesting from the farmers. They've been dumping soy beans and other produce to show their disapproval. There are a ridiculous amount of cows slaughtered every day in Argentina, and for the past two weeks, not a single one has been killed. All work has come to a stand still.

The people of the city are starting to join with the people of the campo, or country/farm. I'm sure part of it is the fact that we city dwellers realize we're about to start running out of food. Carmen said that today she couldn't find any meat in the Disco (local grocery store, like Kroger) or the carneria, the butchery.

So what does an Argentine do when they are upset with the government? They take to the streets with their pots and pans and start protesting. The streets fill with las cacerolas (people that traditionally used casserole dishes and spoons to make noise and drive the point home that the people were going hungry, now it's any type of anything people can find to make noise with) that scream, sing, pray, and bang in protest. The Plaza de Mayo, the plaza directly in front of the federal governmental house, is teaming with people. There are speeches and protests.

Las cacerolas have been banging in the streets at around 8 or 8:30 the past couple of evenings. I asked my Spanish teacher why it was that time. She informed me because that's when most people are in their homes and able to hear the clamor. She also mentioned that the other night when they began, she was having dinner with a friend in her house. When they heard the noise, they both got extremely scared and panicky. I asked my host mom if she felt the same way when they started, and Carmen got very quiet and admitted that it scared her quite a lot.

Why would some people banging pots scary these strong women? Because the last time the cacerolas took to the streets, the economy had just plummeted and the banks had stolen all the people's money. I also thought it was interesting that Carmen had mentioned she was scared because the first night that we heard it, she didn't seem to bat an eyelash. Sumanya and I were very curious because all we heard was this clamor; we didn't really know what was going on. Carmen brushed it off as some people celebrating or something.

So what is the governmental response to all of this? Ms. Cristina Fernandez gave a speech last night in which she stated she wasn't going to change the policy, and that the tax is actually helping the people of Argentina. Then I think there was something about how the government won't be threatened by some farmers.

Where does this leave me, my family here, and los porteños? Basically, we're at a big stand still. Either Fernandez needs to give or the campesinos need to give. Obviously I don't have all the information there is, and listening to it in Spanish always skews it for me.

What about safety? I'm very safe. As long as I stay away from the big protests, I should be fine. There is a group of cacerolas that gathers 2 blocks from me, when Sumanya and I went to go check it out, we both described it as "strangely peaceful and calming." Part of me is very excited to be here during such an important time in the history of Argentina. As long as I stay smart and play it safe, there shouldn't be any problems.

If you want some more official information:
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080325/ap_on_re_la_am_ca/argentina_farmbelt_rebellion
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/7314067.stm
and also La Clarin is the national liberal newspaper (for those that read Spanish) http://www.clarin.com/
or a popular TV news show (don't know the political affiliation) www.tn.com.ar/

I couldn't avoid it any longer

All the Argentineans of ISA, the company I am with, like to call me Sammy. Actually any Spanish speaker I've met so far like to call me Sammy. Imagine that. I don't have enough gumption to correct them, nor does it really bother me for whatever reason. I guess I know they do it out of love from their little Argentinean hearts. I just have to say that I find it humorous, but that it's only cute when it's done with a Spanish accent. If I come back to the States and y'all start calling me Sammy... there will be serious consequences.

I just got back from the movie "The Orphanage." It's this creepy Spanish film by the same guy who did "Pan's Laberynth." I have to admit I acted like a fool through the entire thing because of the amount of suspense build up, but in the end I was like "...this isn't scary..." I was with my friend Diana, and Celia, you'd have wanted to knock me silly, as I'm sure Diana wanted to, I was squealing and hiding like some crazy person.

The basic idea behind the movie was an old orphanage haunted by the deformed, scary, hide-away-from-everyone child, and how this couple loses their kid and you think that the scary kid is evil... but in the end... he's not. Naturally because it's a Spanish film (sorry this is about to be a spoiler), everyone dies. *sigh* guess you can't win them all.

What I did like about the movie was the fact that I understood quite a lot of the film. Yes, there was some stuff that I missed, but, because it was a pretty straight forward movie, I got 70% of the message. Very exciting.

So this weekend is what is called "Semana Santa," or Holy Week. But here Holy Week consists of Thursday through Sunday. I learned that typical Argentine food is a lot of fish (because you don't eat meat on Good Friday) and sweet things. I had a salmon empanada today (yummy... .yes yummy) and one filled with strawberry filling yesterday. They were amazing. There are also huge chocolate eggs every where. The most "manufactured" ones are Kinder eggs (the big ones folk, with the big surprise in the middle) and from the Starbucks of Argentina, Havana Cafe. Most others are made by hand from individual bakeries with fancy little designs on them. Diana and I plan on buying a thousand on Monday... when they go on sale.

I also got a package from my Nana!! That was pretty exciting! I got American gum, chocolate Butterfinger eggs, and a little white bunny. All the Argentinean girls love it and Marina wanted to call it "Bunny Brains." So thank you Nana! I will send you a formal email ( and mail if I can) thank you.

Clases Lindas

Well, I suppose it would behoove me to describe my classes; I am here to go to school.

Last Monday (a week ago) classes at Belgrano started. Lots o´fun let me tell you. I haven't really thought about school in... oh.... 4 months, so it's been a little bit rough waking up from my nice vacation.

I am currently taking 5 classes, all with International Students. I would be taking classes with Argentine students, but 1) I can´t find any I can get credit to transfer for and 2) I think the classes I'm in will challenge me plenty.

I have classes on Monday and Tuesdays:

History of Latin America: This teacher is crazy and has a mullet. She's lived in the States and is a visting professor for some northern college. I like her. She's very animated. She does tend to make things a bit more "Spaniglish" than I like, not just because I'm here to learn Spanish, but because there are students in the class that don't speak English; Spanish is their second language.

Literature of Latin America: This teacher used to have tea with the famous Argentine writer Jorge Luis Borges. We are only reading short stories in this class, but that´s ok with me. I like discussing the stories. I feel it's easier to get my point across in this class, because you can use vague terms and work around the words you don't know.

Art: My first male Spanish teacher. He's also excited about his subject and likes to gesture a lot. I see myself becoming very friendly with the National Musuem of Beautiful Art. This class is from 7:30 to 9:30 at night, though, and I get the feeling he likes to run over. It's amazing how hard it is to describe art. This vocabulary is something I understand when the native speaker is saying it, but I can't yet repeat or explain my own thoughts.

On Tuesdays:

Argentina: An Open Society: This is the class I want to drop. It's very hard. I don't really have a context or foundation to go on, and I feel very lost. But I can't justify having only 4 classes a week... so...

The Traditions and Cultures of Argentina: This guy is just crazy. He spent half the class talking about how if we didn't understand him, there was a slower class on Wednesday we could get into. Constantly. Then he tried to confuse us by using long sentences and mixed up word order in the formal verb tenses when he questions the students. Oh well, I love the subject matter (thus far) and it won't hurt to practice the formal tense a bit. Basically this class is the class that has been my blog (kindaof). Only instead of me trying to explain things with my limited, US cultural views, I get it explained to me. I do like him, but he's a trip in a half.

I'm going to try to sit in on a class with Argentines, just to listen. I also tested into the advanced level of Spanish, and I'm here in Argentina to learn Spanish, so I might as well asisitir that class, too.

Wow, sounds like I'm overloading myself. I think part of it is that classes here are one time a week, 2 hours at a time. Therefore it doesn't feel like I have a lot to do, though I already have 2 ten-page papers in Spanish due for the final. There are some classes that can be as long as 3 hours.. in one sitting! It really depends on whether you are in International classes or enrolled in the actual school. Sitting for that long of a time, without a break, all in Spanish, definitely wears me out.

But it'll all work out how it's supposed to, I'm not terribly worried.

And now a lovely Buenos Airean rain is falling. Music to the ears.

Tidbits for Your Cultural Enjoyment

Greetings:
The average Argentine greeting goes as follows: two people meet, they each greet each other by leaning forward and kissing the right cheek of the other, exchanging 'how are you?'s and 'what's up?'s The kiss is really more like a cheek bump and a kissing noise. Generally people also clasp the arm or shoulder of the person they are kissing. Everyone says their name (when first meeting each other) and then the conversation, date, etc continues on. The same goes for when everyone is leaving. You have to go back around, kiss, and say goodbye to everyone in the group.

As all the American boys like to say: they enjoy getting to kiss all these lovely women when they first meet them, but doing the same with a guy, and having the kissing noise all up in their grill (ear, really) freaks them out.

Advise:
Argentinian people love to give advise, but not in a negative way. I think this is one of the things that makes me feel like Buenos Aires... Argentina.... feels so much more personal than the States. First off, rarely is any advice given that's not asked for. I mean yes, you have your conversations where people recommend things to you and what not, but rarely is any direct "do this" or "go here" advice is given unless asked for. You ask an Argentinian where to go eat, or where a restaurant is, and they not only tell you the best place, or where the restaurant is, but they even farther sometimes and tell you what to order, what not to order, which streets are the best to take, what time to get there, etc. etc.

The downside to this cultural aspect is that many times the people are insulted if you don't follow their advice. Many times I think its because they feel like you are calling them dishonest and untrustworthy.

Self-Esteem:
This is something new that I have recently heard about, but haven't yet encountered fully; apparently Argentinians don't have very high self-esteems. They may be prideful as hell, but they are very scared deep down inside.

What I have noticed is how Argentines are very good at hiding whether they are financially suffering. It's very hard to believe that food, clothing, rent, etc is expensive here, or that less than 7 years ago Argentina had a huge economic crash. The people walk around in clean, precise, well cut clothing. Someone's always buying something; people are in the cafes and restaurants for hours, eating and talking. While people have no problem talking about how expensive things are or how hard it is to get a job, they rarely mention any personal struggles to this effect. For instance, in 2001, when the Argentine economy crashed, there were thousands upon thousands of people that lost their jobs. Some of these people would get up every morning, get dressed in work attire, kiss their wives and kids good bye, then go sit in a park or cafe for all the time they were supposed to be at work. They were too embarrassed to tell anyone they had lost their job.

As I think I have mentioned before, going to see a psychologist in Argentina isn't a big deal at all. Everyone (well, those that can afford it) goes to see one and is open about it. According to Jorge Guinzburg, a famous Argentine social commentary journalist, you don't need any excuse to go see a psychologist other than the fact that you are Argentine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So these are a few cultural things that I have noticed. I went and played volleyball today in a park with some of Sumanya's (my new house mate) friends. It reminded me of how terrible I am at volleyball. And of course, it made me think about Natalie. I met some new people, both non-and native Spanish speakers. I spoke a lot of Spanish. I drank some mate. I got smacked in the face with the volleyball, you know, a very typical Sunday-in-an-Argentina-park.

I'm searching for a gym to join. The one that Carmen recommends is very nice, but the class schedule isn't as conducive to my wants as this other gym. Carmen states that I've been getting skinny (which is nice to hear), but my body feels like it needs something to do other than run.

If you want a culture in context story: Advice and Carmen. Carmen mentioned this gym that all the other girls that had stayed had gone to and kindaof where it was situated. However, I mistook her directions and found this other gym. It was OK. Had a good class schedule, but not so much the equipment. Well Sumanya and Diana also wanted to go looking for gyms, so we made this little round and went to check out all these different gyms; do a little comparative shopping, if you will. When we returned to the house, Carmen asked us what we'd been doing, Sumanya told her, and Carmen got huffy about why I didn't believe her, and why did I have to go looking when she'd already told me where it was, that it was the cheapest (it's not), etc. and whether or not I thought she'd been lying to me, que pa pa, que pa pa. Once we explained the misunderstanding and that Diana doesn't live as close so it was good to go see them from all around, Carmen calmed down. But the point of that long story is to show you that Argentine advice is very serious and when it is given, it is always given with the best intentions. To ignore it is to severely insult the issuer.

Whether to Weather the Weather

Here's another subejct that I've wanted to blog about for the past little bit, but then time would get the better of me, or I'd forget to mention it in one of the novels that I tend to write: The weather of Buenos Aires.

First thing to be said: the weather reports and all the people of Buenos Aires are always wrong about what the weather is actually going to be like. They say the high will be a certain temperature and either it is way too high or no where near hitting the projected high. Nine times out of ten if it says it's going to rain, it won't actually rain.

I've been here for a little over a month and it has only rained about 3 times. The first time I was inside, the second I was sleeping, and the third I was caught in. Rain in Buenos Aires is a monsoon. One of the first things that Tiana said to me when I came here was that the rain here is fat and it soaks you completely, no matter what you are wearing to protect yourself. I can attest to this fact. The rain of Buenos Aires falls mercilessly. It's big and fat and wet. I really like it. It's very loud and always comes down hard. Buenos Aires' rain seems to say "I'm Rain, and therefore I will rain and do a damn good job at it!" Most of the time the rain falls in 30 minute increments and then suddenly stops.

The heat here is almost unbearable. I can definitely feel a difference in weather from when I arrived to the present date. When I first got here it was still very much summer and every day was sweltering. There was some degree of humidity, but for the most part it was just hot. You started sweating the minute you walked out the door. In some cases, you even sweat inside the house. Actually I think that for a little while there, being inside was worse because it was so stuffy and a majority of buildings here don't have A/C or central heating here. The hottest part of the day is between 3 and 6. There were several horrible days. The heat was wiping me out. I've been OK in the house of Carmen. She has a ground floor and if you leave the windows open, and she opens the back patio, it's very cool inside. We'll have to see how the heating thing works.

Now the weather is a little more fresco, or colder, in the morning, and while it can be hot by three, it hasn't been as extreme as the first few weeks in February.

There is always a breeze blowing, which is why for a while there being inside was worse than being outside.

I also forgot to add some more things about Mendoza:
First off in Mendoza they still have preserved the siesta. For the hottest hours of the day (around 3pm to 6pm) most shops shut down. Restaurants and grocery stores stay open; many people eat lunch during this time. It was kindaof hard to adjust to when we arrived in Mendoza because in Buenos Aires the art of siesta has been lost. We kept getting caught with nothing much to do but wander during those times.

We also saw a lot of elementary and high schools in Mendoza. They all have uniforms. I think the private ones have uniforms similar to what we think of when we see a uniform. The girls wear plaid skirts (or khakis) and a collared shirt. Guys wear khakis pants, button down shirts, and ties. In public schools, kids wear whatever they want, but they are covered by a long, lab coat. I think the school and grade dictates which colors one wears. It was interesting to see all these little doctors walking around.

ok those are the observations for right now.

The Sweet, Sweet Nectar of Wine Country: Mendoza

Hooray for Mendoza! I have to say that this past week has been one of my favorites thus far in Argentina.

First off-- Last Friday I went to class for about 2 hours to discover that I had super passed the intensive Spanish class. Hooray for Sam! I was very proud of myself. I wish I had been able to keep the test, just for the geeky Spanish Sam side of me.

Then I went and started off my massive spending spree of a week and bought a beautiful, red, serious backpacking bag. It is amazing. It's 55 litres and can hold almost everything I need for a full week. I figured that with the type of traveling that I'm going to do (like Manchu Picchu and all around Argentina) having a serious backpack would be a good idea. Who knows, maybe when I get back to the States I'll even pick up backpacking... I mean anything is possible.

So I pack my backpack, hop the subte (subway) and head to Retiro. Oh, Retiro, how I despise thee, even if all great adventures start there. Retiro is a huge, dirty bus terminal. There are people, buses, stray dogs, beggars, children, and trash everywhere. I should probably take a picture of it at some point, but I don't want to attract attention to myself and then get pick-pocketed.

I rode an onmibus (charter bus) to Mendoza that was a semi-cama, which means that I can lean back slightly. It is just slightly more comfortable than a regular charter bus seats. It took just over 15 hours. I actually got to slept some of the way, which was good.

I remember waking up in the early dawn and staring out the windows of the bus. I watched the dawn break out over the Andes. I saw the vineyards and the outer pueblos of Mendoza waking up. It was very beautiful and peaceful. We finally got into Mendoza around 11 in the morning. We (a group of about 10 girls total, but the important ones will be Lauren, Stephanie, and Diana who stayed in Mendoza with me while the others went off to Chile) trouped to the hostel called Itaka.

Now I was praying Itakahad room for me.When the other girls reserved the hostel, they weren't sure if I was coming or not, so I didn’t have a spot reserved. The coming weekend was also the wine festival and almost every hostel was fully booked. Luckily Pablo, the front deskman, is a great guy and he found room for me.

I made up a list of things that one has to experience to enjoy the full hostel. Considering I've experienced every single one in one way or another, I am now a hostel-going expert:

1- crappy beds (I was lucky here, because while the mattresses were horrendous, I didn't get bed bugs as many of my compañeras did)

2- cold showers ( Before I found out that the hot ones in Itaka are on the second floor of the main house, bathroom on the left.)

3-someone steals something from you (Someone stole my shampoo, but I consider myself lucky. Lauren and Diana had their tennis shoes stolen. Some other guy got his passport and credit cards stolen. We all know that if my running shoes had been stolen I would have flipped out. But, thank goodness, only my shampoo got stolen. I also feel kindaof sorry for the person who had to steal shampoo.)

4-people have sex in the dorm rooms while others are in the same room (I think this is pretty self explanatory)

5-meeting the most amazing people of your life (Hostels are a great place to meet people. I've met people from all over the world. Including one British guy named Tom who had a crush on me. He left one day while I was on an excursion and left me a note on my bed. This was also the day that my shampoo went missing, so my theory is that he took it to remind himself of me forever... well, until I go to England next. You guys know you love my imagination. But I also met people from Australia, other parts of Argentina, South America, North America, and Europe.)

6- party every day of your life (Because you are always meeting new people, there's always something to do. I went on an excursion almost every day. I went out at night a couple of times. There was always music playing at the hostel. It is these type of things that makes hostel life so amazing.)

Now, I know that hostels are co-ed, but I wasn't really thinking about that, so when I was shown into my room (dormitory style with lots of other beds) there was this guy sleeping half-naked in one of the beds. I felt very awkward, but by the second night I definitely had adjusted.

Itaka is a great place that I have come to love. After discovering warm water, the sex couple leaving, getting over the crappy beds and whatnot, I really felt at home at Itaka. Granted, I didn't really sleep a lot because everyone comes in at all hours of the night and there's always music going on at some point, but I fell in love with the dump. It's situated on a great street that makes most of Mendoza very accessible--and the people. I still can't get over the people. You also meet loads of people on excursions and just daily out on the streets when you are discovering places.

Saturday night we didn't do much other than go get ice cream. Mendoza supposedly has the best ice cream in all of Argentina. I'd agree. I think it's because lots of Italians moved to Mendoza to make wine, mixed ice cream with gelato and now it's amazing. They even have wine flavors.

Sunday we went white water rafting. IT WAS SO MUCH FUNNNNN!!!!!! There were class three and four rapids. And the guides were cute ;) We rafted the River Mendoza. The water is muddy and very cold. We wore wet suits, outer suits like a covering, life jackets, and helmets. Daddy you will be pleased to know that they gave the safety speech which included "don't let go of the paddle."

It was non-stop 3 hour fun. The mountains rose up around us. The Andes are very dry in Mendoza, with lots of shrubs and low-growing trees. There were also alpacas, which are kindaof like llamas and donkey mixes. The water was moving at a good pace. We hit the rapids spot on, though we did have a rough start to begin with.

My tour guide was named Nicolas. He had curly brown hair, chocolate eyes, and the maturity level of a young, knows-he's-hot raft guide. We're going down the river and we get stuck behind a low-laying rock that is actually a mini-hydraulic, so our raft is over flowing and can't release its self. I did mention this was within the first 5 minutes of the trip right? After everyone is jumping to the high side, we finally swing around and are released. Our raft is also filled almost to the brim. Naturally, I'm sitting there looking at the shore desperately, wondering where we were going to pull over to dump. Just as I was about to ask where we were going to dump, I realize that I'm not in the 100-year old raft of my father--this one's self-bailing! What a miracle.

I also have been giving Nicolas dirty looks and wondering whether or not he was joking earlier when he said that it was his first time going down the river as a guide. I was also missing my dad (Dad we should go to Mendoza and Bariloche and freeze and raft) as a guide. Well Mr. Cocky-Cute Raft Guide sucked up his pride a bit and "mentioned" that he actually guides with his right side, not his left, with which he had been practicing when we got stuck... hmm...

So we continue down the river. I'm chatting up Nicolas and some of the other guides. There are two idiots in our raft and I'm attempting to get Nicolas to throw them in the water. I think Nicolas didn't like them either because we always seemed to hit a rapid on their side so they got the brunt of it. hehe. Naturally because all the guides are young, they like to show off. So the guides are throwing people out right and left, doing tricks, etc. etc. At some point Nicolas pulls me up in the raft (STANDING?!?! IN A RAFT?!?! You can't do that!) and we start dancing.... to La Bomba. So much fun. Then Nicolas convinced the safety kayaker (the person in a kayak who followed us down the river in event of a problem) to pull me in the water. It was cold but a lot of fun to go swimming. Reminded me of Dixie Line drive on the Ocoee.

I've made it sound like I was the only one getting attention--well I wasn't. The guides were wrecking havoc at will. There was also some kindaof war going on between this Belgium and the idiot in my raft so everyone was trying to pull everyone else in the river.

I managed to burn my hands. Everything else was completely covered, but my hands got roasted. *sigh* I swear I'm getting sun burned for everyone in Argentina. I'm sorry Mom! I swear I use sunscreen everyday. And, Natalie and Lis, reapplication is key--so I've been reapplying like a crazy person. I just don't get it!

We returned to the hostel and chilled. The next day (Monday) we got up and went on a bike and wine tour in the area of Maipu. It's about twenty minutes from downtown Mendoza, where they actually have the vineyards. We rented bikes for 30-some odd pesos and started to ride.

Some of the ride was pretty, but a good majority of it was on this major road with lots of dust and cars. And boy did the cat-calling get old fast. Every 5 minutes some guy was saying something. It was just aggravating. Yes, I am a girl--Yes I can ride a bike. GET OVER IT YOU DIRTY OLD MEN (viejos verdes)! Normally I can just brush that type of thing off, but considering my bike was two times too big for me, my patience was a little thin.

We visited about 5 bodegas and also a place where they make chocolate. I learned so much about wine. I really wished that Peggy and Jeff (family friends) could have been there with me. I think I would have learned even more (and tasted the best of the wines ;) ). I considered calling this blog "Pooka and Beega's Dream Vacation."

I learned that roble means oak in Spanish, so when referring to a roble taste means a wine has an oaky taste. I also learned that when a wine has a certain flavor, it's not that they specifically add that taste to the wine, but your nose remembers smells, and the smells of the wine trick your nose into thinking that that's the taste. Or something like (I asked in Spanish and got a response in Spanish). I learned the fruitier the wine the younger it is. The stronger and more profound, the older. I kindaof already knew this, but I learned more about the differences in making red and white wines. Thanks to Dad, Pooka, and Beega I was abl to share with my friends the limited knowledge of wine that I had. We all definitely learned a lot. Then we ended our tour with the chocolate shop where we didn’t care for any of the chocolate liquors they pushed at us, but instead, we waited desperately for bits of chocolate—we were a group of girls, after all.

Then Tuesday was a day another day that I was looking forward to. We went to the Bodega of the Familia Zuccardi for a full day of fun at a bodega. Familia Zuccardi was much different from the bodegas we saw on the bike tour—Zuccardi was an industrial winery, which means that it was huge, expansive, and trying to make money. Many of the bodegas that we saw on the wine tour were much smaller and produced less bottles than Zuccardi.

We started by picking grapes in the morning from an organic section. It was a lot of fun. While many bodegas pile all their grapes into a big truck that holds something like 2,500 pounds of grapes (which causes the grapes on the bottom to be smooshed and they start to ferment), Zuccardi places big white bins at the end of each of the grape rows and has people hand pick all the grapes. So we basically paid them to do let us do work for them. But it was worth it totally.

Then, after the picking, we had a tasting. It was really informative, which is probably a weird thing to say about a tasting, but it surely was. I learned all about the types of wine. Here’s a secret I learned: the wines from Argentina of 2008 aren’t going to be that good, so don’t buy any from that year. They’ve had too much rain this year.

The Malbec, a grape originally from France, is the grape that Argentina has perfected. It’s a red wine. The year 2003 is coming to term, but that’s if you’re a real wine aficionado. Torrentes is also the white wine of Argentina. It’s pretty sweet, more so than a chardonnay, and I kindaof like it, but not as much as Sauvignon Blanc or a Chardonnay.

The other amazing part of the bodega experience was the group of people we had the tour with. One pair, a married couple, was from California. The wife had some coporate job and traveled a lot. For their anniversary, they planned a trip to Thailand. The Friday before they were supposed to leave, she had to get reviewed by her company. The guy reviewing her was new and cocky. He told her that she wasn’t doing well enough (at 70+ hours a week) and that she had to cancel her trip to Thailand immediately. So she quit right there and then. The husband followed suit. They sold their cars, computers, and some furniture. They’re renting their house right now and have been traveling for the last 14 months. It was really impressive and inspiring to hear their story.

The other couple was from England and they, too, were traveling the world. The third couple was two friends from Sweden. They were closer age-wise to me and my group. They also were traveling throughout the world, but on a smaller time line. It was really interesting because we discussed politics, countries, cultures, wine, etc with them. Their English was impeccable. They are coming to Buenos Aires in the next weekend, so we’re all going to get together to eat dinner and go dancing. I can’t wait.

The day after the bodega (Wednesday) we had a chill day. Tuesday night I had talked up the kitchen staff at Itaka (go figure the entire conversation started over boiling water for mate-ha: Argentina I love you) and they invited me over to their house for lunch on Wednesday. In true Argentine fashion, they told me to show up at 1:00, I showed up at 1:30, we proceeded to make our ravioli. It was really cool. Then they had to actually cook the meal. So we ate around 2:15ish and I didn’t leave until almost 6 pm. That’s an Argentine lunch for you. We talked for hours about cultures, lunfardo (or Argentine slang), and music. One of the guys and his roommate are currently in school for classical guitar. The other is in culinary school—therefore behold the fabulous, home made ravioli. I have to admit that I only grasped about 40% of the conversation, but they were really patient and intent on helping me.

This brings me to the people of Mendoza—they are a lot friendlier than Porteños, or the people of Buenos Aires. They like to talk and they like to help you out. Sometimes, once they know you know English, they try to explain things to you in English, but you just tell them (in Spanish), with a smile on your face, that you don’t understand English, if they could please tell you again. Most of the time they humor you.

Mendoza is also a lot cleaner and fresher than Buenos Aires. It’s a tenth of the size of Buenos Aires, less tall buildings, more trees, less dog poop, and less trash. It’s such a beautiful place. The climate is dryer. It was also the time of the wine festival, so all the vines were very heavy with purple and deep green underbellies. We definitely came at a good time because we got to see the grapes being processed.

The last of my adventures in Mendoza occurred on Thursday when I went paragliding. Yes, I jumped off a mountain. It was AMAZING. As I’m sure most of you reading this know, I’ve always wanted to fly—and this was the closest I’ve ever come to reaching that goal. We woke up in the morning and headed out to this landing field at the foothills of the Andes. We were met by some instructors and 4 Danish boys (again, more people that are awesome to meet). The instructors split us up into 2 girls and 2 Danish boys per trip. Diana and I waited for the second trip. We made nice-nice with the Danish boys who taught us how to play a new card game named President.

We watched as some paragliders went off the mountain. After taking about a hundred pictures of them, we found out that it was a different group; i.e.: we didn’t know any of the people we’d just taken pictures of. Ooopps. When the people we did know started coming down, though, we were prepared and got some good pictures.

Then we drove up the mountain. We got ready. We had to wear a helmet, knee pads, and a jacket. Diana, Stephanie, and Lauren looked really cute in the entire outfit, kindaof like little Marvin the Martians. Then they put this harness thing on us that doubled as a seat once we were in the air. My instructor strapped me to him and then coaxed the parachute/paragliding apparatus into the air. We were slightly jerked off the ground. Then he told me to start running and I ran off the side of a mountain.

Paragliding is exhilarating, amazing, fabulous. I have always wanted to fly, and I did-kinaof. I stayed up in the air for about 20 minutes. I saw Mendoza from the sky and the foothills of the Andes. It was beautiful. It was a great day, even though there was a little bit of haze over the entire city. I found myself very content and speechless. It wasn’t as extreme or the adrenaline rush that you would think; instead you just have a chance to breathe.

After paragliding, we moved hostels to meet up with all the folks coming back from Chile. This hostel was a lot less fun. The staff was less amable, it was on the outskirts of town, and they had something like 30 beds and only 2 bathrooms… yikes, let me tell you! Life was pretty simple after that. Everyone was losing steam and getting grouchy. Some people got sick, others got bed bugs. Stephanie actually went back to Buenos Aires because she got this weird rash all over her arms and face. She was really uncomfortable. I sort of wish I had also gone back that night, because I was waiting for the wine festival to start, but by the time it actually start, everyone flaked out on me. They did come with me Saturday for one of the parades, though, which I appreciated, but we didn’t get to see all of it. Looking back, however, I really only spent like $30 extra dollars. And I did get to see *some* of the beginning of the wine festival.

Overall, my trip to Mendoza has been amazing. I also noticed how much less timid I am when I speak Spanish. I have gained so much confidence in my ability to, at the very least, bumble my way through a conversation. Carmen is convinced that I'm going to leave Argentina speaking near perfect Castellano, or Spanish as they call it down here.