Americans abroad

I haven't posted in a week, mostly because nothing that interesting has happened. I'm starting to fall into a routine, which is good for me, but boring for the blog.

I did, however, want to share a column written by a fellow H-B student (Susannah Clark) about being an American abroad: http://umwbullet.com/stories/viewStory?s_id=695.

Actually, the highlight of the week was tonight because I invited myself to my friend Michael's apartment and got to cook! Yay! I'm getting kind of sick of living in someone else's home and not getting to cook for myself....

I'll try to do something fun tomorrow so I can write a proper entry.

Besos!

A week of (figurative) hits and (literal) misses

My first week of classes actually began with a failed attempt at going to a course at la UBA. To understand what happened, you have to understand how universities here are set up. The universities have different schools, like the school of medicine or the school of law, called facultades. The individual facultades operate completely independently of each other, including having different enrollment processes and start and end dates. La UBA offers even more excitement, as the different facultades are in different locations scattered throughout the city. Furthermore, at all the universities it is necessary to arrive a little early on the first day (read on for more on Argentine perceptions of "early") to find out where the class is. Lists are posted by department, or catedra, somewhere in each facultad.

So on Monday, feeling smug for being uncharacteristically responsible, I arrived almost an hour early to my first UBA class, which was Social Problems in Argentina through the catedra de trabajos sociales en la facultad de ciencias sociales. When I arrived I was crowded into the lobby with all the other students trying to see the single list of all the classes printed in size 12 font. When I finally got close enough to make out the course titles, I couldn't find my class. I asked a few people if there was another list with the social work classes, but of course no one knew. Finally the security/information person pointed me upstairs towards the social work office, where I did find the list. So on the list you're looking for the name of the building (sede) and the classroom number (número de aula). I didn't recognize the name of the sede, so I asked the same security/information person and he gave me an address. Looking in the Guía "T," I discovered that the address was in the neighborhood of San Telmo, a good 40 minutes away by colectivo. My class started in 20. So I hailed a cab, annoyed at the cost (A$15 versus $1.20 for the colectivo), but figured that at least I would make it to my first class. At least that's how I felt until the driver dropped me off in front of an apartment building. I asked him if there was an UBA sede nearby, but he didn't know. Neither did anyone on the street. I wandered around a little, then decided that it was a class I was probably going to drop anyway and went home.

That evening my friend Mariano, who is a swing dancer, had invited me to a swing class and, since I was suddenly without academic obligations, I decided to go. Actually, since the theme of this post is "misses," I missed my bus stop and ended up five blocks farther than I mean to, but thankfully BA is laid out in a very straight-forward grid scheme. Anyway, Mariano had an address for some group called Buenos Aires Swing. Despite the aforementioned simplicity of the grid scheme, this particular street did not seem to follow it and we wandered up and down the same two blocks a few times before we found the address, at which point we were certain we were in the wrong place because it was the address of a kiosko, or corner store specializing in soda and candy. We could see a staircase in the back and Mariano joked that maybe the dance was in the basement. The kiosko was closed, but the attendant was still there, so we asked him if he knew Buenos Aires Swing. Apparently it was in the basement, so he unlocked the door and let us in. The only dancing going on downstairs, however, was three women doing ballet, and the teacher informed us that Buenos Aires Swing had moved out of the space a year ago. So we went back upstairs and decided to just go back to our respective homes for dinner.

Tuesday was the first day of my IFSA Spanish and Human Rights classes. I was less than thrilled, and six hours of class in a row (we're supposed to have a 30 minute break--we didn't) is a lot under any circumstances. The human rights class seems like it's pretty much going to be an intro to women's studies class, and I used to be a women's studies major, so I was a little bored. Hopefully I am mistaken and it will be great.

Spanish was fun. My professor, Darío, is 30 and funny and talks a lot. He is also very cute, and the girls in the class are very aware of it (the boys may be too, but they're less vocal). The class is big (21--the other classes I think are around nine) and I'm concerned we won't get much chance to talk, but it will certainly be entertaining. The class is three hours long and each hour has a different focus. The first hour is grammar (quote from Darío: "In the first hour you're all awake and have energy and love life--so we study grammar."), the second hour is literature, and the third hour is themed. We got to choose which theme we wanted to take, and mine is Popular Urban Music in Argentina--aka Argentine rock. I figured it would be fun and a good way to learn about pop culture.

Wednesday I went to la UCA for an interview with a music professor. They wanted to make sure I actually knew something about music before they let me take the class--the interview lasted about seven minutes. As I was leaving the professor said, "Great I'll see you in twenty minutes then." I thought music classes started next week. Apparently they started last week. So I went to class and I loved it. First of all, I was just so happy to be in a music wing of a university. Also, the practice rooms don't appear to be sound-proofed, so I could hear people playing all through class. The professor was engaging and the students were very friendly. The boy I was sitting next to, Nicolás, told me to ask if I had any doubts, and helped me understand the programa (sort of like a syllabus) and how to get the readings.

This brings me to a point about classes in Argentina. The entire system, of course, is very different the way we do it in the U.S. First of all, they do not start on time. On Friday morning I had a class at 7:45 and it was just the professor and me for the first 20 minutes. Additionally, the classroom atmosphere is much more informal here than in the States (and I never thought classes were that formal in the States). Besides no one caring about the starting time, classes are very conversational and the concept of hand raising in non-existent. People interrupt the professors to ask questions and make comments, and most people don't appear to be taking notes. Also, it's completely acceptable to leave the room to take a call on your cell at any time. Classes meet in three to four hour blocks, sort of. As I said, nothing starts on time, and we get a break in the middle that lasts anywhere from 10 to 30 minutes and some of my classes let out early. I actually really like the structure. Despite appearing to lack seriousness, there is a very strong sense of camaraderie amongst the students and between the students and the professors, and they are clearly learning a lot. Like so many other things in this country, it suits me.

On Friday I had a class at la UBA, but it only lasted about 20 minutes, so I'll report more on that next week.

I also had some exciting (and some less exciting, but equally pleasant) social excursions this week. On Wednesday my friend Michael cooked dinner in his apartment in San Telmo, and about ten of us ate and then went to a club that does a Wednesday night happy hour (much later than our happy hours). Thursday I went to pick up some things I had left at Michael's and we had a lovely lunch and afternoon wandering around San Telmo and going grocery shopping. The highlight of this trip was the purchase of Cunning Cunnington Exclusive Cunnington Cola (photos of the club and the soda can be found on the facebook). Yesterday my friend Rachel and I passed the afternoon lying on a blanket in Parque Las Heras reading for school. I read eight pages! And understood (most of) it! Reading is the most difficult thing for me to do in Spanish, I think because most my Spanish language acquisition has occurred outside of the classroom, so I was very proud of myself. Last night the whole group went out and Mariano, Meg, and I went to Puerto Madero, on the river, to watch the sun rise. Tonight Rachel and I went to see Amorosa Soledad, an Argentine film. It was a little strange, but I enjoyed it.

This week I don't have classes until Wednesday. Tomorrow is being reserved for errands, laundry, and homework, and on Tuesday we're going to Tigre, a city on an island in the delta to the north of BA. Should be fun, although I've heard the mosquitoes are vicious!

I still don't have internet and therefore still cannot upload photos of video, so stay tuned for a multimedia extravaganza to be posted once the situation is resolved.

Lovely day in Recoleta

I wrote this on Sunday, so if anywhere it says “today,” I mean Sunday.

On Sunday, Meg, her friend Rachel, and I had a lovely afternoon in Recoleta. We started at the Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes, a name that highly amuses me. “Bellas artes” means “fine arts,” but the direct translation is “pretty arts,” which always makes me think that the other museums are showing ugly arts. Anyway, the museum is a big pink building surrounded by trees. It’s on Av. del Libertador, a beautiful, wide avenue lined with parks, statues, and grand-looking buildings with columns, many of which are museums.

The MNBA has a very nice collection. The ground floor (what Americans would call the first floor) is mostly European art, with a nice room of impressionist paintings. I love impressionist paintings, mostly thanks to my grandmother. Most kids do things with their grandmothers like bake cookies, or maybe go to the park. My grandmother, however, was a modern art connoisseur, and my childhood was filled with trips to the east wing of the National Gallery, where my grandmother was a volunteer docent and tour guide for many years. We would walk through the rooms of Monet and Degas (my favorites), Manet (her favorite) and many others. She would make me stand back to see the whole painting and then stand right up next to the canvass to inspect the individual brush strokes. She loved the brush strokes and that a shadow might be painted using colors that aren’t really in the object, like purple shadows in a green apple, or on a woman’s face. She loved that when you got up close, the images lost their clarity, and she would always have me point out the brush strokes I liked. She also liked the textures and paintings where the artist had built up the paint and it wasn’t just smooth.

She encouraged me to use this technique during our many art-making sessions. When I didn’t show any affinity for drawing or painting, we focused on collage and sculpture, making eclectic works of art with the large quantities of varied materials that she hoarded for me, and which took up most of the closet space in my grandparents’ small apartment. She also had quite a collection of those postcards that you can buy at the gallery with prints of famous paintings on one side, and we spent a lot of time with these. She would quiz me on the artists (I’m sorry to say I’ve probably forgotten most of them) and ask me what I saw in the paintings. I don’t really know that much about art, and I’m not very articulate when discussing it, but I still love the impressionists and when I go to museums I still stand back to see the whole image and then get up close to examine the brush strokes.

Well, that was a little off-track, but I miss my grandmother very much (she died six years ago) and I always think of her when I go to art museums. So, the point is that I really enjoyed the MNBA. The first floor (known in the States as the second floor) is Argentine art, which we didn’t really look at, so I’ll definitely be going back. The second floor (or the third floor…you get the idea) had a temporary exhibit of photographs by Cuban photographer Cayetano Arcidiacono, and is actually the reason we went to the MNBA in the first place. The exhibit was small, but I really liked it. Speaking as someone with a very limited knowledge of influential photographers (besides, of course, the important works of my father, my uncle, Dave Burnett, and Pete Souza), there were some images that really reminded me of Ansel Adams and that other photographer whose name I can't remember.... Helpful, I know.

After the MBNA, we walked across the street to the Recoleta Cultural Center. On the weekends the plaza outside the center serves as a huge artisan market, and on a beautiful day like today, there are tons of people out, tourists and Argentines alike. Besides the artisan booths, there were bands playing and an array of circus-type acts, like people spinning plates, walking tightropes, miming, and whatever you call that thing where people wrap themselves in cloth and do acrobatics hanging from the ceiling (or in this case, a tree), cirque du soleil style.

The plaza at the Cultural Center (and the many other parks in BA) is definitely a place Argentines go to hang out Sundays. It is very common to see families and groups of friends sitting out on nice afternoons with picnics and mate, which is a very Argentine tradition. Mate (pronounced MAH-teh, for you non-Spanish speakers) is a lot like green tea, and Argentines drink it out of a vessel that is also called a mate. This is a very social practice; everyone drinks out of the same mate. Traditional mates are made of hollowed-out gourds, but you also see ones made out of metal, wood, and porcelain. Mates are often works of art, with beautiful paintings or intricate carvings. And it’s not one of those traditions you hear about, but don’t really see; they really are everywhere. So we sat on the lawn and ate fruit salad and pan rellena (sort of like a calzone, but yummier). It was a lovely day!

Good weekend

My internet is not working. Mostly this isn't a huge problem, but I did take some photos and videos this weekend to post with this entry and now I can't upload them. So I'm going to go ahead and post and hopefully I'll be able to upload soon.

This weekend I had my first authentic Porteña nights—at least in terms of when I got home! On Friday night a friend from my program, Mariano, invited me to go to a ska show with him at a club near my apartment. I was really not familiar with ska, but I really enjoyed the music, and I had a great time!

The show was in a small bar in the basement of a building and was pretty packed. The headliner was a band called Skaineken, but the 12 peso cover bought us performances by quite a few other bands as well. One of them was called No Cashes and had very enthusiastic fans in the audience, including two small children who I'm pretty sure were the lead singer's kids. This is why I love Buenos Aires. There were two kids who couldn't have been more than then years old in a basement bar at 1:30 a.m. watching their dad play a show. Anyway, the group was good and very high-energy. They got the audience to sing along and at one point had some of their friends get up on stage to sing with them. They also did a few covers, including a great one of Red Red Wine (video to be inserted here).

Skaineken was also good (more videos here). When you can see the videos, you'll see a man dancing who is much older than anyone else in the bar. His name is Miguel and he befriended us--I met him outside when he stopped to tell me I have beautiful eyes. He was easily 55 or 60, which isn't really the crowd that usually shows up at things like this, but he was very into the music (as you will be able to tell by the worshipping gestures, you know, when you can see the video). The bands were getting a huge kick out of him and kept engaging with him. I thought he was great.

After the show we went to a bar and then dancing. The sun was coming up as I made my way home, around 7:30, thoroughly exhausted, but happy.

On Saturday I slept until 3:30--something I cannot get in the habit of doing once school starts--and then went out again. Meg, the girl from GW who I met in class last week, invited me to go to Plaza Serrano, a popular Saturday night destination. It’s a big circle lined with bars and full of extranjeros (foreigners), but Argentines can be found there as well. There are tables outside and you’re likely to run into people you know, so it’s fun.

We went with some of Meg’s friends. Then some of their friends showed up, and then some of their friends showed up, and it ended up being a pretty big group of people from all around the world. That’s something I love about traveling; at one point there were four different languages (Spanish, English, Portuguese, and German) being spoken at the table, and Spanish was the common language for some of us. There was Meg and a couple people she knows from GW, then there was Michael from England, Gabriel from Brazil, siblings Carolina and Martin who are German-born Peruvians (Martin studies at UVA and Carolina goes to university in Lima), a group of Germans whose names I didn’t actually catch, and Daniel from Uruguay and Antonio from Ecuador who both live in BA. We sat at a table outside in Plaza Serrano, drank wine and ate empanadas and tostados (traditional toasted ham and cheese sandwiches), serenaded by the music and horns of passing cars and solicited by small children selling roses. It was the first time in a long time I’ve hung out with a group of my peers like that, and I had a really great time.

Today I spent a lovely afternoon in Recoleta with Meg and her friend Rachel, but I’ll write about that later. I do want you guys to keep reading my blog, so I’m trying not to write too much at once.

This week my classes start in earnest. We have a few weeks to “shop” for classes before we set our schedules, and we have the option of taking classes at four different universities: la Universidad de Buenos Aires (la UBA), la Potifica Universidad Catolica Argentina (la UCA), la Universidad del Salvador (USAL), and la Universidad Torcuato Di Tella. I am trying out courses at all of them except Di Tella. This week classes start at la UCA, USAL, and the social sciences department at la UBA(the department of Filosofía y Letras, where I also have a class, starts next week). My IFSA program classes are also starting (one on human rights in Argentina and my Spanish class—my class’s topic is popular urban music in Argentina). It looks like I’ll be trying about ten classes, which will be whittled down to two. I know it seems like over-kill (and I’m not looking forward to going to that many three- to four-hour seminars in a week), but I have so little understanding of what the courses are going to be like and what I want to take that I figure it’s better to just try things out and drop them later.

Wish me luck this week, and stay tuned for the videos and an update about my day today!

First class and colectivo madness

But before I get to that, I have solved the mystery of the locked cupboard in my bedroom (as referenced in this post). It stores...wait for it...sheets and towels. This makes me wonder about the former occupants of this room. Was there some grand sheet theft incident? Still curious.

Okay, back on track. I had my first class yesterday! Finally. Unfortunately, I'm pretty sure I'm going to drop it. I actually really enjoyed it, and I like the profesora. However, the class is designed for foreigners (as discussed in this post), and there was not a single Argentine student in the classroom. In fact, there were only three non-American students in the classroom.

I am glad I went yesterday, though, for two reasons. First, when we introduced ourselves in class I mentioned that I sing, and my professor asked if I sing opera or rock. Now, I don't really sing either opera or rock, but in a panic state of being caught off-guard in Spanish, I answered opera. What I sing is certainly closer to opera than to rock. Well, she was thrilled about that and, in front of the entire class, asked me if I'm studying music here in BA, where, and gave me her e-mail address because a friend of a friend is the director of the music school at the Teatro Colón. Buenos Aires has some of the best opera in the world, and the Teatro Colón is the best of the best here, so I really doubt that I'll be taking classes there. But now my professor thinks I'm an opera singer.

The second reason that I'm glad I went to the class is that I made a friend! The girl I sat next to is from Boston, goes to GW, and lives three blocks away from me in Palermo. We took the colectivo (bus) back together—the colectivos here are very confusing and it is always nice to have a buddy.

Speaking of colectivos, I've been meaning to write something about the bus system. There are hundreds of bus lines in the city with stops conveniently located all over the place. There is not, however, a nifty online trip planner like we have at home. Okay, I can get over that, but there really isn't even a map of the routes. What we do have is a little book called the Guía "T" (a pun! It's the transportation--"t"--guide, but guía te also means "guide you"). On first glance it seems like a nice little book of the bus routes, helping you easily sort out the madness of Buenos Aires public transportation. Yeah, in your dreams.


Let me explain how it works. I'll use a simple example. Let's say I want to go from my apartment in Palermo (Beruti 3737) to the IFSA office (Av. Corrientes 880). I start by looking up my street in the index in the front of the book...


It tells me that Beruti 3101-3900 can be found on map #9 (there are 36), and that the name of the street can be found in square A5. So I flip over to map #9, look on the grid (A-D on top and 1-6 side to side) to find Beruti. The blocks are all numbered, so I find the 3700 block, which is in A6. On the opposite page is the same grid, but instead of a map, it shows a list of all the buses that stop in each square....


Then I repeat this process for Av. Corrientes 880, finding it on map #17, in B4. Then I compare the bus lists in 9-A6 and 17-B4 to see which buses stop both places. I can take the 29 or the 111 bus. Think we're done? Absolutely not.

I choose the 29 bus for no reason other than I've been on it before. So then I flip to the back of the book, where each bus line is cataloged....


This section tells me that the 29 bus goes from Boca to Olivos, and lists all the streets where it stops on the way (ida), and on the way back (regreso). Note that it does not tell me where on the street it stops, just the name. Also, to know whether you need to get the ida bus or the regreso bus, you have to know where Boca and Olivos are, and where you are in relation to these places.

At this point, if I haven't given up and just walked the two miles because that would have been faster than figuring out which bus to take, I usually ask a porteño if I need the ida or the regreso. The next step is to find a stop, so I locate a street near me on the list and start walking. On the street there are signs with bus numbers on them, so I find a 29 bus stop and wait….

Not the 29 bus, but you get the idea.

Then comes the really fun part. Just because there are people standing at the stop does not necessarily mean the bus is going to pull over. So, when you see the bus coming, you have to wave it down. Once on the bus, you tell the driver where you're going so he knows how much to charge you, again, not actually knowing the stops. I usually throw out an intersection, often in the form of a question (¿Hay una parada cerca de Corrientes y Carlos Pellegrini?). Sometimes the drivers are nice and tell me when we get to the stop, but usually I have to pay attention to the streets signs (which are often on the sides of buildings, not on street corners). Then, when I think we're getting near my stop, I have to push the stop button. As is the case with picking people up, the bus will not stop to let you off unless the button has been pushed. Then I hope I’m at least near where I wanted to be, orient myself, and arrive, proudly, at my destination.

So now you are fully versed in how to navigate the BA colectivo system. Surprisingly, I have successfully done it quite a few times. There is a subway, but it doesn't go very many places, doesn't run as often, and is very crowded and about 90˚ at all hours. Yesterday someone told me that going into the subway stations in like descending into hell, and I tend to agree.

That’s all for now. Any thoughts on the new blog layout?

Dog days

The last few days have been a little slow (thus the title), which actually suits me right now. On Sunday I went to a huge, open-air antique market in the neighborhood San Telmo, ran into some friends, and had an excellent, authentic porteño lunch….

Dana, Dana's host-brother Fran, Hanna, me, and Ed. That sandwich I'm holding came with chicken, ham, egg, lettuce, tomato, and onion. I urge you to compare the size of the sandwich to the size of my mouth--or anyone's mouth. Needless to say I packed up about 3/4 of it (and took off the ham and onions--yuck). Photo stolen from Dana.

The last two days have revolved around making sure I’m registered for classes and figuring out when my classes start—processes which are much more difficult and time-consuming than one might expect. I’m trying to join a choir, but in Argentina things like choir are extra-curricular, not taken for credit, and everyone I talk to tells me something different. I’ve finally gotten in touch with someone who seems to actually know what he’s talking about at Universidad Torcuato Di Tella—a school where I am not, in fact, enrolled in any courses—and I might be able to sing in the choir and also take a beginning guitar class.

The weather has been beautiful, so I’ve been spending a lot of time walking around and reading in parks. I really enjoy Parque Las Heras, which is about two blocks from my house and full of people sunning, reading, guitarring, picnicking, and playing with dogs and children. I’ve also walked around enough that I’ve completely oriented myself in my neighborhood. For most people this only takes a few days, but those of you who are familiar with my sense of direction, or lack thereof, can be proud that it’s only taken me three weeks.

Speaking of walking, walking in this city makes me a little crazy. People tend to walk very slowly and in the middle of the sidewalk, making it difficult to get around them. Really, most things about this country are a lesson in patience (as has been the case in my other Latin American experiences…). Waiting in line at the grocery store takes at least 15 minutes no matter what time of day it is, waiters at restaurants let you sit at the table for quite a while before bringing you a menu or, at the end of the meal, the check, and the registration process at the universities is more convoluted than I could possibly explain here. And don't get me started on public transportation. It's efficient, but very confusing.

I have my first class tomorrow at la Pontificia Universidad Católica Argentina, aka la UCA. It’s called Migraciones Internacionales en América Latina, which sounds great, but it’s a course designed for foreigners, so I’m probably going to drop it. The rest of my classes start next week and the week after.

I’m sorry I don’t have anything funny or terribly exciting to report, but I am feeling better than I was last week, so that’s good news! Thanks for the e-mails, comments, and general encouragement (especially from Suzy! I appreciate it!). I'll try to have a good story soon!

Sick

Short post, for once. I've been pretty sick for the last four days and have, unfortunately, been spending a lot of time in my bedroom. I've been to the movies twice just to get out of the house (He's Just Not That Into You and the Curious Case of Benjamin Button), and last night I felt well enough to go to a tango class with some friends. I love to dance, but I find it difficult to learn partner dances because you really have to find someone who knows what they're doing to teach you, and people who know what they're doing usually want to dance with other people who know what they're doing. It makes me miss contra-dancing.

On our way to tango. Photo stolen from Dana.

I'm getting a little homesick, but I suppose that's to be expected. I've been here three weeks and the novelty's beginning to wear off. My homestay isn't great--I'm actually thinking about moving--and it's been raining, so I haven't been able to wander around the city. Also, classes haven't started yet and I don't do very well without routine.

But enough complaining. I know that I'm lucky to be here, and I know it will get better as I get more settled. I just think that after almost five years of not being in the same place for more than a year I'm ready to stay put for a little while, and study abroad doesn't really help with that.

As always, thanks for the e-mails and the comments. I'll have a more up-beat post soon!

Bariloche

This past weekend I spent three days in Bariloche with IFSA. Bariloche is a small city in the mountains in Patagonia, very close to Chile. It is in the Lake District of Argentina, and is also the chocolate capital of the country. Since there are 185 students on my program, we were split into two groups for the trip; my friends Emily and Katie were in the group that went earlier in the week, and Kristen and I went over the weekend.

We arrived Saturday morning and went straight to the main lake, Nahuel Huapi. The lakes here are glacial (is that how you say it?) and crystal-clear, and the mountains rise up right from the shore. It’s really gorgeous....


The town is very touristy, but cute. It feels like a little beach town, except surrounded by mountains. Also, the 60˚ weather was a nice break from the heat and humidity in Buenos Aires.

Saturday afternoon we went up a mountain on a ski lift. The idea was to get a wonderful view of Bariloche and the lakes. I, however, was terrified. Please keep in mind that I cried the first and only time I went on a Ferris wheel—at age 17. Kristen kept me laughing though, and I managed to smile for a photo (believe me, my knuckles are white below the frame where I’m gripping the bar for dear life)….


And the view was worth it….

I was really happy to be off the ski-lift. Kristen was proud of me.

Unfortunately, Sunday was cold and rainy, but Kristen, two other friends, and I decided to make the best of it by going to Colonia Suiza, a small town outside Bariloche celebrating the area’s Swiss heritage. Actually, we really spent the day traveling to and from Colonia Suiza, and it was so not worth it. We took the colectivo (that’s what regular city buses are called here) out of town and then waited over an hour in the cold drizzle for the next colectivo. When we finally got to Colonia Suiza, we were sorely disappointed. Instead of the cute, preserved colonial village with a nice artisan market we were expecting, the town is a few kitschy buildings and a lot of even more kitschy tourist stands. We ended up getting coffee to stay warm and heading back to the hotel, where I spent the afternoon napping, taking a long shower, and writing in my journal. Not terribly exciting, but exactly what I needed, and the view from my window made me feel like I was still appreciating the area….



Monday morning we went on a pretty difficult hike. Now I know I’m not a hiker, but this was 7 km straight up on a sandy path, and then 7 km down the same path, which was even more difficult. It was basically impossible to keep your footing in the sand, and I don’t think anyone made it without falling at least once. Luckily it was very satisfying once we got to the top….


Also, our guides were really great and kept everyone’s energy up. At the top we stopped to eat lunch and everyone pretty much passed out…


So one of the guides started a dance party! That’s him in the hat….

Today was pretty tranquilo. The big news of the day is that I bought a fan for my bedroom. The fan is only 12” x 12”, but the box is about twice that size, and I had to tote it around all day on the colectivo.

Coming soon…registering for classes!

P.S. FYI, if you click on the photos they'll get bigger. But possibly too big.... Let me know and I can reformat them.

P.P.S. More photos can be found here.