He llegado otro vez: I've arrived again... finally

Hey folks,

After a month and a half long furlough I have arrived once again to Buenos Aires, my second home. The trip, however, was far from smooth, though I took the bumps in the road with the rather casual, come what may, attitude for which I am known.

Perhaps I jinxed it. Everything went so efficiently in Boston, perhaps too efficiently. And I celebrated my good fortune by declaring to the world, via facebook status update, that so far everything was going to plan.

Well, I arrived in Houston only to discover that my flight to Buenos Aires had been canceled. I patiently waited for an hour in the customer service line, and when my turn came, the services people were much more helpful than I had thought. All the while I had been expecting I'd be sleeping in the airport, but when they gave me three free food vouchers and a hotel room I couldn't disagree.

I gobbled down a large froyo with blackberries and oreo bits (meal numero uno), and took the shuttle bus to my hotel. Aside from a freezing room, which eventually warmed up after I cranked up the heat, my experience at the hotel was A-standard.

FROYO!!!

I returned to the airport and by noon I was milling about Terminal E, exploring the duty free shops and watching planes take off.

Watching planes fly

I killed time for 9 or 10 hours until my flight was finally called and everyone began lining up to board.

This is where it gets interesting. We waited in line for about an hour to get our passports checked, and when it was my turn the United official gave me a peculiar look and asked if I had paid the reciprocity fee (a $300 dollar fee residents of both countries, USA and Argentina, must pay to enter the other). I said yes and showed her the ticket.

While I waited for her to double check its validity the flight crew arrived and I overheard them discussing a slight problem. There were two flights bound for Buenos Aires, and one was scheduled to take off an hour before the other. Furthermore one flight had almost no people on it. This is when they had the brilliant idea of combining the two flights into one (I say this with a hint of sarcasm).

We were thus transferred to gate E20, waited an hour, at which point they started giving us new tickets, which took another hour, then they transferred us back to E18.

My look of serious consternation after a 3 hour delay. Will I ever leave? I kept thinking.

We boarded the entire plane three and a half hours late and shut the doors in less than 20 minutes (I believe that's a world record. If we had been two minutes later the plane would not have had permission to take off as 1AM was the cutoff for flights).

The flight went without incident, except of course for the poor father in the row next to me trying to care for his infant son and toddler. Poor guy. I recall waking up to finding cereal spread across the floor, my shoes, my bag, and pretty much everything else I could see. Moral of the story, never fly with infants... ever!

I spent the first two days seeing the city and catching up with old friends.

The greenery of this building really stands out.

I love the contrast between the modern buildings and this gothic church, nestled in the heart of the city center.

On the to-do list: Find a supermarket near my new place. Begin lesson preparation. Find a good local gym. And of course have fun, it's summertime here!

Cheers  

Family and friends, old traditions, and energy boosts

Feliz feriados a todos (translates to 'happy holidays to all' - for all you anglophiles out there)

Returning to the states has brought me solace in many ways. When I left Argentina I'd been feeling a little unsettled. Living far from home, including far from my family, many close friends, and old ways and customs, took a toll by the time I had left for the states.

While I am still working out many of the rifts that developed in my mind throughout this experience, I now feel as though home has grounded and balanced the storm that had been a daily struggle. It is amazing the power people and places can have on one's well being, and I can't express my gratitude enough for a loving family and friends, and to old holiday traditions as well. This support has helped me regain an energy and exploratory nature that I think I gave up on in Argentina, and I think I have a better understanding of how to work and thrive when I return in January.

I wish to all reading this that they too find peace and joy this holiday season. I found my energy through a supportive family, holiday traditions, and wonderful friends. Find whatever it is that brings you joy this holiday season and hold it close, for that peace and joy is a true expression of love.

Below are some of my favorite holiday memories created this year. Comments or questions are always welcome!

We had to restrain the little one for this family photo!

My brother Aiden says blue ornaments taste like blueberries

My sister Heidi tree hunting

1000 calories spent at Ben and Jerry's by my British friend Oliver!

The original boot trash stomper at the cider mill (Come on, we've all wished for one at some point)

Dre enjoying mate on Holts Ledge

Homemade granola Christmas presents for friends and family

Sunrise at home

Pulling sleds on skis? Not such a great idea : )

 Best holiday wishes! Enjoy the new year and see you back in Argentina.

Thanksgiving Day: Family Gratitude

Hey folks,

I'd like to share my gratitude this Thanksgiving day here on my blog. Living far away from home for a year was an amazing experience and I'd like to send words of love and encouragement to everyone who wishes to live a similar experience, or whoever is living abroad right now.

My first year in Argentina allowed me to see myself more clearly, and become more attuned to the clockwork of my mind. Many problems and difficult situations presented themselves, and without the proximity of family I found it could be quite difficult to fight through some of them. I believe, however, that the challenges I encountered during my first year abroad have given me a sharper understanding of who I am as a person, including my beliefs and values.

Beautiful golden bird looking mighty fine in the oven!

Missing Thanksgiving last year placed into focus the very real importance of the holiday for me. I recall cooking up a few chicken breasts with apple and caramelized onion, a delicious meal but not quite up to the standards of a turkey, stuffing, and copious amounts of gravy. But the best part is being surrounded by a loving family and seeing the expressions of joy that everyone gives.

This year we all pitched in to make the day a successful one, and in doing so it helped strengthen the family bonds, bringing all of us closer together.  For example, my sister Heidi prepared a homemade pumpkin pie out of a real pumpkin. Nancy, my mother, prepared the turkey and marshmallow salad. I helped out with the cooking and played football with my brother and dad, while my dad helped manage my super energizer little brother.

I'll finish with my gratitude for all the love and joyful expressions given on Thanksgiving. I realized during my year abroad just how important family is in my life. The eternal love expressed by friends and family is a strong foundation which everyone should have the opportunity to share in.

I like to think of every good act, whether towards friends, family, or complete strangers, helps to build and strengthen this familial foundation that continues to bring joy and light, even as the autumn days darken and winter knocks on the door.

Nancy preparing the finished bird!

Heidi working at the homemade mashed potatoes. Mash 'em up bunka!

Aiden, my brother, smiling oh so joyfully as he stirs the gravy!

I got to carve!!!

Playing a little pigskin in 20 degrees (-7 celsius). Brrrrrr.

The future football star and his favorite person.

back left = key lime pie. front = pecan pie. back right = pumpkin pie

I tried all three!!!

Love and gratitude on this special day

un abrazo

Left Argie, life back in the states

Bienvenido amigos, 

I have returned at last to the land of my roots. Ahhhh. Good old Vermont. A land I know. A place where the buses run on time, every retail item has a price tag, and one has the sense that things "generally work." 

I think for me returning to Vermont has acted as a form of therapy. I've found myself reconnecting with my deeply entrenched memories of this place and this has allowed me to regain a sense of balance, which I know I started to lose after being away for so long. 

I was blessed by the visit of a very dear friend of mine, who I met while doing the TEFL course last November. I think the best way to describe Jess would be the very first memory I have of her. I recall sitting in the TEFL classroom, the course had just begun, yet we were still waiting for one person. About 10 minutes into the first class Jess walks in, trying to be unobtrusive, and sits in the empty seat next to me. She calmly, and with a carefree demeanor, explained in reasonable terms that she had walked to class from Palermo (probably several miles) and had gotten a little lost. Well, now that I know Jess a bit more, I realize that getting lost is probably her specialty. Not lost in a negative way, because for her, and as her blog attests, the journey is the destination. For her getting lost is a way of discovering.

Here's Jess's new home she found hiking up Ascutney Mountain.

  

Jess is one of those upbeat and inspirational people who has the amazing ability to stay lighthearted even when confronted with difficult circumstances (to see what I mean check out her blog here) - I found this to be a great counterbalance while she was visiting VT to my often pessimistic and cynical views, and helped us to bounce ideas off each other and take a few inspiring dips into the deep end of the thought pool.  

Showing Jess all the sights and attractions in VT helped me to reconnect with many of the places and activities that are important to me. We went hiking on one of my favorite treks, Ascutney Mountain. We savored the unforgettable Burdick hot chocolate, a yearly - sometimes twice yearly - tradition for me. We were witness to a quintessential American football game, Dartmouth versus Princeton. It'd been a long time since I'd watched a Dartmouth game. I used to go all the time with my dad when I was younger so attending this football match helped reopen those old childhood memories. This game in particular, with white-out conditions caused by the snow storm in the last quarter, made it perhaps the perfect American football game to watch for a Brit (Jess is from England) who's never experienced the sport before.

Here is a wonderful photo Jess took that captures the character of that game. 

    

I also had the opportunity to reconnect with my little brother Aiden. My parents didn't tell him I was coming home because the excitement would have been too much for him. So imagine his surprise and the look of joy on his face when I just show up. His happiness was overwhelming. Well, he introduced me to a new game he invented and I'll admit that despite it's simplicity it was surprisingly enjoyable. All it entailed was running over cardboard boxes on bicycles. I had a grand time until I tried to run over an empty cat-litter box and ended up eating dirt and cold hard earth yet the box was unchanged.

Long live the box destruction game. Awww, and look at that wonderfully happy smile! Who could resist that? 

So many boxes. In the end they all looked like pancakes.

My mom Nancy tries out the game with little success

Overall it has been a wonderful first week back in Vermont. I'm looking forward to catching up with more friends as they return for Thanksgiving and the holidays. I miss Buenos Aires, but I could use a little Vermont country atmosphere and some family time.

Cheers y abrazos

Spanglish 101

Hi folks,

My last couple of blog posts have been a little on the deep side, so for this post I think I'll swim a little more on the surface, if only to lighten the mood : )

I've recently taken up going to a program called Spanglish (click on the link for more info). It is a wonderful program that works to bring native Spanish and English speakers together for a language exchange in a social setting. While I don't recommend the program for elementary learners of English, it can be much easier for an elementary Spanish student to attend and learn something.

So far I've gone to Spanglish four times, and I think from now on I will try and go consistently on Fridays. There is a large and wonderful group of core attendees who go almost every week, and we almost always will order a pizza or two afterward and continue the conversation, usually in English : )

Here is me and fellow Spanglish attendee Victoria (photo courtesy of SpanglishExchange.com)

  Cheers

Reflections

As I have lived and worked in Buenos Aires for almost a year, I feel it is time to write a post on my reflections of my first year here and what I might expect when I return and continue working in January.

First as a quick update, I have slowly been recovering from a bout of depression and mental unrest that hit me during an incredibly stressful and rainy week in early September, thus like most true Argentines I've started seeing a therapist each week just to organize my thoughts and help me vent out a little of the stress, which seems to have helped wonderfully so far. Now that the weather is sunny and warm again I think the depression, along with the stress and anxiety, have started melting away a little each day. Returning home for the holidays will hopefully seal the deal : )

An Uruguayan friend of mine asked me to participate in a movie he is directing. All he needed was an extra to be kidnapped in the trunk of a car and to get shot by the kidnapper. I enthusiastically agreed to the part and the filming went splendidly. Who knows, maybe I'll finally get my 5 seconds of fame on the big screen!!!

I also finished a second day working for L.I.F.E. The Aussies volunteered again as well as another American whom I met during orientation. All in all a successful day of volunteer work. I'll be volunteering two days this week because a majority of the volunteers have gone up to Missiones province to help in the L.I.F.E project up there, so now only a few volunteers remain in Buenos Aires to do the volunteer work here.

Now turning to my reflections. I'll begin with a conversation I had with one of my more advanced students on Argentina, and this probably applies to Latin America as a whole, but there is no way, or at least no way known to us, to fully describe the Latin America experience. My student told me to really understand Argentina, which is to say, to understand why it's nearly impossible to understand, is simply to live in and experience the culture firsthand.

I think for the major cities this experience is made even more complex by the mish mash of just about everything from east to west, Europe, China, North America, Latin American populism, and cultural idiosyncracies. A blend of cultures, classes, and influences mix together to create a country that is both first world and third world. I guess I can only liken Buenos Aires to a seemingly unbreakable code with a constantly fluctuating and changing algorithm. As soon as you think you've got everything figured, the algorithm changes on you and you're back to square one.

Living here has required a huge mental shift for me, which has involved some difficult life changes which I've needed to embrace. These changes probably have more to do with culture than anything else, but in order for me to survive here and not go crazy I've needed to change my cultural perspective. To understand how difficult this has been I'll give an example of a tree that is always reaching upward towards the light, yet one day an object is placed above the tree, permanently blocking the rays of the sun. This tree must begin again, slowly adjusting and trending laterally until the leaves are met with sunlight once more. Such was my realization that my old patterns of thought, patterns which I had developed and refined in my previous culture to a point where they were almost inseparable from my identity, needed to change. They no longer worked in my new environment, so I was forced by trial and error to develop new patterns of thought. Some of which improved my life here while others were ways of hiding my unwillingness to change the old patterns, which ultimately led to an emotionally difficult but transformative reckoning which occurred last month.

Adjusting to a foreign culture can be extremely difficult for many people. Perhaps for me more so than for most. Growing up in the rolling valley countryside of Vermont didn't provide very effective preparation for such a drastic change to city life, and I probably went through a 6 month adjustment period where some days I would wake up, hear the traffic outside, and think 'it's going to be hellish out there today and I really don't want to travel.'

I mentioned previously the culture here of short-termism; a way of thinking in the moment and not about future consequences. In the North American culture I was raised to think first of the long term consequences for my short term actions, then act accordingly. The nature of life in Buenos Aires has forced me to abandon this North American point of view and really just live and think about each day as they arise, because by thinking too much about the future one begins to worry and stress about the unpredictability of it all.

Part of this unpredictability may be due to my work as a freelance teacher, in which I don't have a fixed income each month. Yet life here in general is unpredictable for most people every day. One day the power may go out, the next day the water won't be working, the heater may break in the middle of winter, or I can't charge my SUBE card on a Sunday night because the system is down and I therefore cannot travel. Or I am travelling to a class and there is a union strike, the road is blocked, and I arrive 15 minutes late. Or maybe I arrive and the student doesn't come. Or the price of flour in the supermarket goes from $3 pesos one day to $10 pesos the next (all of these happen frequently). You learn to live with this volatile state of affairs because planning for the future here is too often a waste of time. You don't know what will happen tomorrow or the next day. and too often long-term plans are dashed.

Despite all the problems and dysfunctionalities of life here, or perhaps in spite of them, the people bring to each day an energy and enthusiasm for life which is rare in much of the U.S. I guess the much overused acronym YOLO fits very well here. Live with gusto for today because you never know what tomorrow will bring.

This culture is part of what is drawing me back to Argentina in January. There's something to be said for the late Porteño nights, in a Parrilla dinner with friends, meeting a friend at a local cafe for a chat, or getting lost in a book while drinking mate at the park. I think in general there is much passion which helps make up for all the dysfunctional elements within the country. Perhaps the latin romantic mentality is well suited to this task. 

In all, I am looking forward to a break and some rest. In a place with little traffic, where you can hear the birds and it's quiet outside. Yet I'm looking forward to returning and embracing the culture once more; learning from it and continuing to expand my cultural perspective of the Latin American experience. 

L.I.F.E. My first volunteer day!

I finally had an afternoon free to volunteer for the L.I.F.E.. non-profit! I wrote about delivering solar lights to this group about a month ago for families who don't have consistent access to electricity. L.I.F.E. is a Buenos Aires based non-profit that was founded in 2001, in the wake of Argentina's last financial collapse. During this time the country was devasted, and nearly half the country, people from all social classes, walks of life, and backgrounds lost their jobs, or their savings, or both. Riots and looting ensued and amidst this chaos and economic upheaval L.I.F.E. was born. 

L.I.F.E. stands for "Luchemos para una Infancia Feliz y con Esperanza", which in English translates to "We fight for a happy childhood with hope." While they work a lot with impoverished communities in northern Argentina, L.I.F.E. also works with the impoverished communities within Buenos Aires as well. The work is primarily focused on children and can be likened to an after school program for children with few or no activities to keep them occupied after school. 

The neighborhoods in which L.I.F.E. operates are known as the "villas", the vast build up of makeshift homes and dirt roads that are the slums of the city, and last Tuesday was my first experience entering one of these villas, known as "Ciudad Oculta", or "Hidden City."

What is important to keep in mind when thinking of the villas is that they are not officially part of the city. They were built in areas not designated by the city, and the city has since expanded and enveloped them, yet hasn't taken them into the fold. Therefore the people in the villas on the whole live an alien and marginalized existence. The police rarely enter the villas, ambulances cannot enter but must wait outside, and city offers no services in the form of electricity, running water, or gas. All of these services must be acquired illegally by the people living in the villa. 

In the government's eyes the villas do not exist, and the people have no right to live in them, there are no official streets and no maps for if you get lost, therefore it was crucial that everyone stayed with the group.

Yet it was still surprising for me when our van pulled up outside the villa and it was literally as though you were leaving one world and entering another. The city streets are all paved and maintained, however we reached a point where the city streets just ended, and a makeshift and narrow dirt road began, surrounded by brick and cement houses. Five of us got out of the van. I grabbed one of the activity boxes while someone else grabbed a soccer ball and we headed toward the entrance to the villa. Meanwhile the van pulled away, carrying the others to a different section of the villa. 

The comidor (a dinner house) was only about 400 meters inside the villa so we didn't need to walk far. While walking one could observe the shoddy construction of many of the buildings, most of which were open air, lacking the glass for the windows. The stairways are also all outside the houses, which all seem to tilt inward ominously towards the road. As we neared the comidor we passed a huge bone in the road. It looked to be the leg bone of a cow perhaps, although I couldn't be certain. 

We reached the comidor, knocked, and waited. We had to wait outside for perhaps five minutes so they could clean up a bit inside. The building itself was like most other buildings in the villa, a tin door, cement siding, metal fencing over the windows, and the usual graffiti scrawled across the walls. 

An older woman with black hair and indigenous features opened the door for us and welcomed us in. We then set out to prepare the games and activities for when the kids arrived. Usually they arrive at about 4:30 and we work with them for two hours. However most children didn't arrive until well past 5 o'clock. We thus had very little to do until about 5:30 or 6, when finally a slew of children showed up and we were sufficiently overwhelmed for the next hour. I found a place at the table we had set up before hand and I played and taught some of the children chess, while at the same time reading a book to another, and watching to make sure the other children were behaving. 

One boy came and sat on my lap. He seemed to be about 3 years old, but his heft and burly build suggested he was probably not eating a very healthy diet. I vividly recall how bloody mucus would occasionally run from his nose and we would call the mother over who would have him blow into a tissue. This boy had all the same needs and desires as other little children, he enoyed reading the books, tried his hand at drawing, and got angry very quickly when I didn't let him use all the colored pencils at one time. Yet for me this is when the reality really sank in. These people were living with no medical or social support, and their ability to make informed decisions for themselves has always been limited to their environment. 

We often speak of a "glass ceiling", but in the villas there is a true example of a concrete ceiling. The people know no other life than in the villa, and no one, not even the government, pretends at offering them something more. When I did my orientation with L.I.F.E., the guy (bless his heart I forgot his name!) explaining how the organization works also explained that the only experience the people living in the villa expect is that of the villa. They do not expect anything more, as generation after generation are born, grow up, and die in the villa. For them it is a fact of life of which few can, or expect to, escape. 

Hopefully I can volunteer again next Tuesday. While it may not make a big difference in my life, I know from experience that having positive older role models has a huge positive impact on a child, the decisions they make, and who they choose to become. 

For more info on L.I.F.E. and how you can volunteer or help out please go to the link below. 

http://www.lifeargentina.org/

Cheers, 

Kyle