Lost in Translation

conversation between myself and a local man (Porteno) in English

Me: How do you two know each other?
Porteno: We are, uh, partners.
(silent looks around)
Me: You know, in America, if you say "partners" we think "lovers"
Porteno: Uh... that is not what I meant. (embarrassed smile)

Argentina Classes

First, I'd like to say that I've always thought my Spanish wasn't really good enough for three post-graduate courses taught in Spanish. Now I know that I was absolutely right.

The problem is two fold: first, some of my professors speak at lightening speed, like the micro-machines car guy that guest starred as a teacher on Saved by the Bell. And second, when I do manage to generally understand the topic, it comes out that I actually know very little about Latin America. Which is tragically sad since my masters is focusing on Economic Development of Latin America. Granted, this is my second year of my program and only this year was supposed to start taking my Latin American courses, but that's no excuse.

I mean, I'm FROM Latin America. It's so close to the United States. I am an INTERNATIONAL AFFAIRS student. And yet, I have no idea who these leaders in the 80s were, how these countries came to exist and how they got to where they are now. Generally I do- but only the part that involves Europe. Like, so-and-so western power colonized so-and-so in Latin America. I know a bit more than that, but overall, not enough to be able to actively participate in my class.

But never fear. That's what grad school is for- to expand my knowledge. That's also what Wikipedia is for. And so for the next few days, I will be devouring information on Wikipedia in hopes that my basic understanding of Latin American history grows enough to understand my professors. One of which, btw, graduated from Cal in '04 with a degree in Political Economy- like I did- and is now teaching me about Political Economy. Something about him being qualified and published makes him- once my classmate-- a well respected professor.

The Other Side of Argentina

We just got back from our first Argentinian adventure and as much as I want to sit here, in my little apartment in Buenos Aires, and do absolutely nothing, I figured if I don't blog about my trip this weekend, I never will. Mostly because school and real life starts on Monday and I'll be busy with other stuff. I will do my best to update you all via blog about my first trek through the other sides of Argentina.



All of our pictures will be up shortly if you're interested on Picasa... the link will be on my facebook but let me know if you want it and aren't on facebook.


Woong and I decided we were in dire need of leaving the city- we were tired of the polluted air and of the busy city life. We planned as far as Puerto Madryn, which is in the Patagonian region of the country. There, we would venture to Peninsula Valdes and Gaiman and from there we would go wherever the breeze took us. After a few days we decided to go all the way to the southern most tip of Argentina- Tierra de Fuego- via bus and then fly back to Buenos Aires. We crossed that out quickly when we realized we could only get to Tierra de Fuego by crossing Chile and on a plane with valid ID- i.e. our passaports. Which for some reason, Woong thought we should leave at home. As Homer says, D'oh. A day or two later, while planning the rest of the trip, we decide to take a bus to Tierra de Fuego and then fly back to Buenos Aires. Does that sound familiar? Yeah, we came up with the exact same plan that we had already realized wouldn't work. So now we needed a new plan. We decideed to head west into the Argentine Andes to two small towns in the Lake District of the country- El Bolson and Bariloche.

Here is the story of our trip, as abbreviated as I can for those of you that can't be bored with details.


Day 1: Long bus ride to Puerto Madryn. Apparently, the train systems in the country are very unreliable. One guys journey took him 24 hours for what should have been a 5 or 6 hour ride. The buses are all awesome Benz-type vehicles with first class seating. Movie choices are severely questionable (Zohan??? Drillbit Taylor?? Two of the worst movies I've ever seen).

Day 2: Arrive in Puerto Madryn. It's a port town known for their seafood (Argentina is not known for good seafood at all, in fact, our guide book says to avoid it) and as a gateway to Peninsula Valdes which is a Unesco World Heritage site and one of "South America's finest wildlife reserves." It happens to be breeding season for the ballena franca austral (southern right whale) so they are insanely close to the coast of Puerto Madryn. How close? You felt like you could swim to the whales and frollick in the sea with them. This picture doesn't show you how close they were b/c my camera zoom/focus isn't great for shots like this.

Whale off pier

I didnt' expect it to be this cold but I was freezing and buried myself in my thin coat.

English translations are questionable in this country.

We also went to a highly recommended seafood resto where Woong ordered the wrong dish and ended up with a plate of deli meats instead of seafood. He looked so disappointed that I insisted he order his seafood dish. He still orders the wrong thing and ends up with fried calamari instead of this fresh seafood platter with four different dipping sauces.


Day 3: Tour Peninsula Valdes. Tour includes whale watching trip (where we were FEET away from the whales), penguin watching (the magellanic penguin also breeds here during this season), and elephant seal watching (also breeding). Along with maras, guanacos, and burrowing owls. Mara's are this weird version of the North American Hare and guanacos are related to lamas. Woong and I were amazed by the wildlife and felt so outside of ourselves. Days earlier we were in Buenos Aires, starring at stray dogs and puffs of black smoke from buses and here we were now, on the peninsula, feet away from wildlife we'd never seen before. We got to see elephant seals fighting over women an the whale watching was an amazing chance to get close to these famous whales, though at some point, we were so close that our boat was rocking uncontrollably.

Day 4: We head to Gaiman, which is a small town south of Puerto Madryn known for its Welsh heritage. It took us a few minutes to figure out what country the Welsh were from (oops) and then we went to a tea house. Actually, first we went to have lunch at the WORST place we'd ever been to. I think they make all the food and then microwaved it upon order. The lasagna they brought me smelled like serious ass and Woong had some chicken stuffed thing that was equally awful. We were so disappointed that it sort of set our mood for the rest of our tour through Gaiman. We went to tour a park called El Desafio which one man spent over 30k hours making out of strictly recylcled material. The park was pretty cool and we figured, worth a fortune if you were to take all those bottles and cans in to the recycle center. Apparently, stemming from their Welsh heritage, people in Gaiman are serious about their tea and cakes. Our guide book suggested we eat lightly or skip lunch but clearly we didn't listen so we went to eat cake after our nasty lunch. The portions were HUGE and we coudln't finish it all, but no worries, we wouldn't let any cake left uneaten. We took it with us. But only after we ate as much as we could and worked through the serious giggles Woong got (sugar high?)


The rest of the days are sort of blurry. But here's the gist of it.


We went to El Bolson which is a hippie haven, apparently. It's Berkeley meets Tahoe, though far less industrialized and crowded. It was recently named a non-nuclear zone and ecological municipality (see the touch of Berkeley?). Here, we rented mountain bikes and went on our very first mountain biking excursion EVER. We rode them up to Cabeza del Indio and were so excited to be on the mountain, just the two of us, in the Andes, that we complete forgot to STOP and look at the famous Indian Rock. Instead, we kept riding toward the Cascada Escondida (Hidden Waterfall). We were already on quite the adventure since at some point, Woong's front breaks went out and he spent over half an hour trying to fix them. At some point, I had to ask if he knew what he was doing and he admitted he did not. He, thirty minutes later, realized it was something far more simple and he fixed his breaks in about 2 minutes, though they were pretty crappy breaks and kept falling apart periodically.


After that we get to a clearning that said "Cabeza del Indio 90 minutos" the way we'd come. We knew from the rock to the hidden waterfall was 90 minutes from the rock we missed so we knew we must be at the waterfall. Though we can't see anything. So we get off our bikes and followed the sound because we could HEAR the waterfall. We get past a few trees and finally see the waterfall!! We were so proud of ourselves and mused that it really was a hidden waterfall. Then we wanted a picture of ourselves so I fight with some branches to set the camera up to take the picture of us standing in front of this breath-taking fall.

We finish the picture, hop on our bikes and ride about 3 more minutes when we see some signs pointing and follow the crowd. What do we find? The REAL hidden waterfall! Out in the open, over 50 feet tall, thunderous and crashing with some bridges taking you close by. What we found was something on the side, about 3 feet tall, and not for one second had we stopped to think, wow, THIS is it??? We laughed at ourselves for being so foolish and took had some other tourists take a few pictures of us next to the Cascada Escondida.

At that point, we took a wrong tour somewhere, though to this moment, Woong and I can't agree where we went wrong. Regardless, we were definitely on the wrong part of the mountain, not meant for mountain biking. We could hear the road so didn't want to give up but the mountain was so steep that at some point Woong slipped and went sliding down the side with the bike. I'm not gonna lie, I was afraid but thought best to let him finish falling and THEN panic. I couldn't understand why he held on to the bike while he fell, I thought he'd break his arm that way for sure. Turns out he thought if he held on to the bike, somehow he'd stop falling. He did not. In the end, we made it down (semi) safely and landed ourselves in the cemetary. Nice.

After that six hour adventure, we decided the only thing to do was drink some beer. El Bolson grows hops, in fact, nearly three quarters of the country's hops are grown in El Bolson so really, we had no choice. In the end though, we had one liter of beer and decided to pass out.

The next day we went to their outdoor market for some of the country's best empenadas. In under an hour, we hit an entire corner of the market and had two waffles, three artesenal beers, two empenadas, and one giant milanesa sandwhich. Right after, we hopped on the bus and decided to spend our first day in Bariloche being piggies and gorging ourselves with their famous food. As though we hadn't done that same thing in El Bolson that day.


We decided to spend the rest of our trip in Bariloche for many reasons. First, it boasts some of Argentina's best food. Second, it has the country's best chocolate. Third, more artesenal beers. And lastly, because the lake-side city was breathtaking. We spent one day just eating and drinking (seriously) and we went horseback riding another day. The trip included an all day excursion through the Andes mountains and a home made asada (bbq) halfway through. Lunch was AMAZING and HUGE and no one, I mean no one, ate more than Woong. One Chilean tourist came close but in the end, Woong made me proud and ate more meat and chorizo than anyone else.

The horseback riding was worth every penny. I am not skilled enough to describe how gorgeous the Andes are and it was so meditative riding a horse through the hillsides of the mountain range. We snuck up on an entire herd of deer and realized we were really in the wild when we found a clearning with deer bones licked completely clean. Woong was thought of as the troublemaker by others as he quickly tested his horse out and galloped through the plains. At one point, riders in the back screamed for us to wait and as I stopped my horse I immediately knew something had happened to Woong. Sure enough, the man fell of his horse. (pause for laughter). In all fairness, it wasn't his fault. I think the saddle wasn't put on properly and while he was trying to cross a small creek and go up a steep hill, his saddle just sort of slid off to the side and as one tourist from Madrid told me, he was sllowwwwlllyy holding on trying to stay on but rolling off the horse until Woong finally fell off. I wish I'd been there to laugh and take pictures.


That pretty much concludes our trip. Woong did have one more fall but this one was just plain walking down the street and though it was absolutely hilarious, it might be one of those you had to be there stories. We came home today, about ten pounds heavier and tired of buses. We're being complete bums today before whipping ourselves back into shape tomorrow and heading out for a much needed workout.


We've returned with a new appreciation for the country and our city. I think we both understand now why everyone falls in love with Argentina and it was satisfying to come home to Buenos Aires on a beautiful day with a gorgeous sunset.


We plan to hit the road again soon, this country is so big and there's so much to see!! But for the meantime, we're both rejuvinated and happy, having enjoyed a wonderful vacation and of course, I'm glad to have shared that all with him.

Our Next Big Challenge

Argentina consumes the most amount of sweets out of all the countries. A habit Woong and I are gladly partaking in.

We signed up for Sports Club- a big chain gym in BsAs. We had our first trip to the gym right before we left for our vacation.

Next big challenge: converting miles and pounds into km and kg. I had to enter my weight on the treadmill and had no idea how many kilos I weighed so I took a wild stab in the dark. I went home and realized I had entered my weight as either an 14 year old girl. Perhaps it was wishful thinking? Then I had to enter my speed in kms and pick weights in kgs. We were both very sore the next day and refused to believe it was because we are out of shape but because we didn´t know how to convert our usual weights into kilos.

The Simple Pleasures

To us, food is one of those. I'm sure most of you can agree that nothing is better than your favorite dish and a great glass of wine after a long day. I, personally, have a love affair with Mexican food- particularly the Burrito. Umm.

Argentina is three things: soccer, wine, and beef. I'm not gonna lie- the beef is pretty good. I'm learning about a variety of different cuts and how it's possible to eat a great piece of beef plain- not covered in A1 or some other steak sauce. Their pasta is pretty good too- after all, it is influenced by the Italians.

But one thing travel books forget to tell you is that that's pretty much it. Don't get me wrong, great beef can come in many different ways- sandwhiches, plain, with papas fritas. As can pasta and pizza. But there is so much more out there- peppers and cumin and sage and even fresh basil. You're not going to find much of that here. Woong and I- being of origins that genuinely value spice- are dying out here. We have to ask for pepper everywhere we go. And everytime we order a dish marked as spicy they warn us- "oh, that's very spicy, be careful."

It never is. We've yet to have spicy food. We tried Indian food hoping for some tasty vindaloo. No. We tried several Chinese restaurants. Nothing. Even tried two Mexican restaurants. Still no good.

So we decided to scour the country for the infamous chili pepper. They just can not be found in Argentine grocery stores. We hit up the Chinese stores too since we're blocks from China town. Every time we go there the Argentine locals stop Woong and ask him how much something costs or they'll point to some Chinese writing and ask him where they can find that. He's not Chinese. At least he feels comfortable here because locals are used to a high Asian population (both Chinese and Korean) and so they dont' stare at him everywhere we go like they did in Mexico.

But our search turned up fruitless until today!! We found a new Chinese store that had JALAPENOS!! We were so excited. OH- and, PINTO BEANS. Yes, at the Chinese store. And for you people that think all Latino's south of Tijuana are the same- Argentinians don't eat a lot of beans and so pinto beans are a rare, rare find. As are tortillas. Those things are synonymous with Mexico and more Central America- definitely not Argentina.

So the next time you bite into that spicy Thai dish or kimchee, think of us here in Argentina, eating our tasty beef, longing for a mouth-burning bite into some chili pepper- any chili pepper.

The Moment we Felt Argentinian

This moment hit us last night. The two of us were playing pool in Palermo SoHo and then decided to have dinner at this great looking parrilla. After the usual stuffing-of-selves with meat and wine, we came home and looked at the clock. It was after 1am and we'd just finished dinner. We finally did it! We assimilated ourselves into the culture. We thought about going out and staying at the club til 7 am, but we're not yet there and decided to save that for another night.

Our First Days as Tourists

Casa Rosada (Pink House) Our First Tango Show

Woong: hehehe, that street is called Mai-pu (pronounced My Poo)

Me: seriously?? :)

Woong's best dancer pose

A rainy day from our balcony

Our first days in BsAs

We've been in Buenos Aires for two nights now. And I 've caught Woong's cold. We haven't been able to switch to BsAs time so we're going to sleep at 4 and waking up at 16. (I'm switching to the Argentine way of doing time). I don't have many adventures to share since I've been dying the past day but we did try to make the most of our first night.

Some observations: Buenos Aires is a big, dirty city. It's a cross between Mexico City and New York City, with a drop of European. It took me forever to realize why Buenos Aires has pizzeria's on every corner and is renowned for their ice cream. I kept wondering what their fascination with American pizzas is until it dawned on me that Buenos Aires has heavy Italian roots. It was my AHA moment. Duh- that explains the pizzerias and plentiful ice cream.

Buenos Aires is also very polluted. Lonely Planet says the city is "lax on pollution controls." It's not as bad as China but it's not very refreshing either. Want to know something else they're lax on? CLEANING UP THEIR DOG POO. Again- Euro influence? Woong and I couldn't help but think how glad we are to live in America, a country that cleans up their poo.

Our first meal was at 20hrs on a Friday night. We hadn't had anything to eat since 8 and were famished. The restaurant didn't open til 20hrs. Argentines don't eat dinner til about 22hrs so we were the very first ones in the restaurant. But let me tell you, they don't f*** around with their beef. It was delicious.

Our first dinner in BsAs

We also tried grocery shopping which was an adventure in itself. And I DO speak Spanish. I mean, I got that "leche entera" is whole milk, but the rest of the milks were so hard to understand. And there were so many options for salt I had to ask someone which one was table salt.

The rest of the time I've spent lying on our couch and watching our 100+ cable channels. About half of the channels are in English w/ Spanish subtitles and the other half are American programs dubbed in Spanish. As we speak, Woong is watching The Simpsons in Spanish. Good to know we won't be behind on our pop culture.

My Best Madonna impersonation

Woong at our front door, which we can watch on Channel 98.

And the adventure begins!!

By going nowhere. As you may or may not know, I'm going to be living in Buenos Aires with my wonderful boyfriend until at least January. Our graceful exit was scheduled for today- United to Dulles (DC), Dulles to Buenos Aires. We said our good-byes over a handful of dinners [and a cake aptly saying "Hasta la Vista" courtesy of Carolyn and Satura Cakes (yes, I do free marketing if you're interested)].

After staying up past two trying to get ourselves ready and waking up at 8:30, we miss our flight. Technically we didn't miss it and I blame United for us not being on our way to BsAs right now, but that's another story. So after some frustration and a rescheduled flight, we gathered our 4 check-in bags and two carry-on bags and head to Angel's place in the Marina for yet another final night in the bay/California/United States. We go back and forth for a second as to whether or not we should have a quiet night in or call up our friends.

We chose the latter. Not for anything fancy but for a FEAST of Korean bbq at the Brothers in the Inner Richmond. We text our friends and had a last minute dinner with seven great friends.

And now I'm ready to go. Again. I'm determined to make my flight and by Friday at 9:30 am- local time- I will be in Buenos Aires. As excited as I am, I was sad when I realized what I was leaving behind. It dawned on me just how lucky I am, to miss my flight, have great friends to stay with, drive me to the airport, and have a huge dinner with- all so last minute. I won't have that in Buenos Aires and I'll miss it plenty.

Thanks to all those friends that had pounds of Korean meat with us today. I'll miss all of you. Hopefully- if I ever make it to Argentina. :P

Mean Girls

My friends say that I'm "too nice." I used to think this was a compliment until I realized their version of "too nice" translated into "you let people walk all over you." I've worked on this a little bit and now I feel that when they tell me I'm nice, it no longer means "you're a fool, grow a backbone."

But I got to thinking on the way to work about what it means to be nice. There's a gentleman, presumably homeless, that gets on my bus every morning with a bag of food and eats all his food. Nothing fancy- today he had a slice of plain white bread and some juice. But I couldn't help to think when he got on "on here comes the smelly man." And then I thought to myself, Betty, that's just mean. Clearly the man is having rough times and he seems nice enough.

That's when I started breaking apart what it means to be nice. I have nice friends that no one would catagorize as mean, but they are quick to be snide or annoyed when they feel the urge. Then I have friends that are nice to me but can say really mean things. I recently told one of my gfs after she told me how nice I am that the only difference between her and I is that she is unabashed about saying her mean thoughts outloud to whomever will listen. Whereas I keep my mean thoughts inside, because I think they are mean and saying them outloud will make me a mean person.

Aren't I already a mean person by having said thoughts? Oh, she should not be wearing that. Woah, her kids are not attractive, and recently, wow, thank goodness for him he looks like his father. Or, by checking my thoughts, and recognzing that they are less than friendly, am I seperating myself from the Mean Girls? Are mean thoughts a part of human nature and how we express them is the determining factor of what makes us nice or mean? Or is that all BS and I'm really not as nice of a person as I thought?

I'm not sure, but I'll keep debating this in my head. In the meantime, I 'll just follow Thumpers mom's advice (which I think is actually one of the golden rules of life, but Thumper says it so well): If you can't say nothing nice, don't say nothing at all.