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.