Pots and pans

On Sunday evening I left the apartment to meet a friend for dinner. While walking down the street I ran into the middle of a (non-violent, don't worry) protest. People had taken to the streets banging spoons against their pots and pans - a historical form of protest here called cacerolazo. They were supporting the campos who are still in conflict with the government over the rise in export taxes. Although I didn't directly participate I did nab a small sign as a memento.

Finally, here are some photos from the past few months. Enjoy.

http://picasaweb.google.com/eringurak

Thoughts from a foreigner

Since I last wrote we finished our classes and the final exams. SIT keeps us plenty busy, though, as now we’re commencing our independent study projects. I’m researching the role of co-ops in the lives of the cartoneros. After the 01 economic crisis, unemployment surged and if your education level was low, then there was little chance for a job. Thousands of people turned to the streets – literally – and started sifting through garbage bags at night looking for paper, glass, plastic: basically, anything recyclable. These people are the cartoneros: they work at night, sometimes alone or with their family, and they live on the outskirts of the city, far away from the glamour of our neighborhoods. In 02 the city government legalized the work of the cartoneros and started funding cooperatives around the city. I’m interested in the relationship between the government and the co-ops: why they legalized the work, joint community projects. I have contacts at some of the co-ops and in the government….to interview. Dun dun dun. Our expected result from this month is a 20+ page essay incorporating research and interviews. Like anything, it depends on the effort you put into it; I’m not going to kill myself with work but I want to write something decent.

On the phone someone asked how Argentina was going and I was at a loss. I kept stumbling and stuttering because I couldn’t figure out what to say. It’s been good and bad and hard and easy in different ways and I’m still processing and learning and enjoying and missing. Part of me doesn’t want to talk about it because things feel trivial and it’s hard to explain what I’ve seen and the places we’ve visited and the problems we’ve encountered. I’m thinking about the States and why we call ourselves Americans and how comments about the differences between here and the States can be insulting.

I love how everything is condensed here. People are friendly and help with directions and ask where I’m from and say, “My daughter lives in Aspen and she has friends in Minnesota.” There are always places to go. The city comes alive late at night. But in ways it’s hard. I don’t always understand what’s going on. I can’t decipher everything in conversations. I get stares like I’m a foreigner. I have to pay to talk to people back home.

Plus we’ve seen significant problems in each country and there are just thousands of problems and situations bigger than myself. The world is a complicated place. I’m not worldlier than anyone else but I’m more conscious of the world’s problems and the concept of being a foreigner. It is frustrating and tiring but it can be a rewarding and fascinating experience. I am glad that I came to South America because I got away from the mundane and familiar and I will be sad to go back although I think fondly of home

On the plus side, I don't have dengue fever

I spent so many hours on buses during the past two weeks but the lack of sleep and innumerable bug bites were worth the wait. Two weeks ago we rode for 20 hours from BA to the southern Brasilian city of Porto Alegre. The architecture was dated and I preferred the scenery beyond the skylines: Porto Alegre is surrounded by mountains of lush greenery. Unfortunately our free time in the city was limited to evenings and one Friday afternoon. Lectures filled the rest of the time and I thought that some boring and unnecessary. There were a few visits, the best of which was to an MST which translates to movement without land. Outside of Porto Alegre, dozens of homeless families created a community on land they do not own. They lived in shacks constructed from garbage bags and when we arrived, the kids in the community sang to us. I didn’t know what their songs meant but they sang with determination, like they wanted us to feel their pride in the land. Okay, that’s romanticized; most of them were probably too young to know what they were singing.

On Friday evening we took an overnight bus to Iguazu Falls. It seemed like some deity didn’t want us to see the falls, however, as there was a monstrous rainstorm on Saturday morning that flooded the streets. Thankfully it cleared and we bused to the falls. The bus halted after awhile because a giant tree had fallen during the storm and was blocking our path. After some wait, we finally made it to the falls. I can’t articulate how phenomenal they were. Just when you thought you couldn’t get closer, you could. We wound our way around the paths until we reached a walkway that leads one into the falls. They were epic and beautiful and put Niagara Falls to shame.

The group split after and my half took the 24 hour bus to Uruguay. Montevideo is like BA’s more tranquil cousin: European architecture, friendly people, and demonstrations in the streets. We had fewer classes and more visits during the week, including several living co-ops, an organization for afro-Uruguayans, and the Mercosur headquarters. SIT also doubled our money for the week and I ate some quality paella and sushi. I enjoyed the traveling though was happy to get back to BA. I missed the excitement, though; while I was gone, wildfires outside of the city blew in black smoke that clouded the streets during the day.

"Eat, eat, eat!"

Yesterday I returned from our rural homestay in Wheelwright, a town four hours northwest of Buenos Aires. We were divided into pairs, with two people assigned to one family. I was paired with Katie, the most energetic one in the group. My host family was wonderful: they were welcoming and funny and encouraged Katie and me to eat, eat, eat. I probably ate more this week than I have in my month in the city. My family lives on a farm (or campo) – husband and wife Ernesto and Elena, a grandmother, and various relatives and friends – and raises pigs and chickens and produces soy, wheat, and corn. Recently, soy production has become an enormous part of the Argentine economy. Katie and I helped feed the pigs (who have the most frightening eyes of any mammal I’ve seen) and even drove the tractor for a few minutes (though under incredible supervision). I know, that part is hard to believe, let alone me running around a farm chasing chickens. I had a fantastic time and spoke non-stop Spanish for three days. Upon our departure our family gave Katie and me some gifts: a mate cup (mate is the communal tea of the country), a jar of marmalade, and some candy. Elena even shed a few tears! What a sweet lady. I’m considering a visit to the family during May if I have the time.

Incidentally, this was the perfect time to visit the campo. The government recently raised the export tax much to the dismay of the nation’s farmers who found their income decreasing. This spurred protests in various cities including Buenos Aires and Wheelwright. In lieu of attending the protests, my family watched them on TV. President Kirchner spoke twice this week about the taxes though offered no solutions for the farmers. Protests are ongoing; we encountered several on our drive back to Buenos Aires. Farmers are blocking roads and not allowing milk and meat to pass, resulting in a nationwide shortage. It was a great experience to see the real effects of the export taxes on the farmers, rather than be a bourgeois tourist and attend the protests in Buenos Aires.

In other news, this week marked the month anniversary of my arrival in Argentina. It’s hard to believe that I’ve been here for a month… though I have yet to put any pictures in an online album. I’ll try to be more productive this week.

Like Vietnam, but not really

Thank you Easter, for giving us a four-day weekend without any classes. Yesterday Annie, Merritt, and I went to El Tigre, a town an hour north of BA. We were under whelmed by the Puerto de Frutos – thinking that there would be more fruit and less crafts – but the town was charming. We then took a long wooden boat around the delta of the Parana River. It was apparently similar to the Mekong Delta in Vietnam with its palm trees and brown water though without the staggering poverty. Dozens of cozy little houses and campgrounds lined the river banks. We exited at a typical tourist spot called Tres Bocas and explored the grounds for awhile, walking along the river and avoiding mud when necessary. After an hour of walking we grabbed some lunch then headed back to Tigre and eventually Buenos Aires. The islands were beautiful and calm and a definite change from the noise of the city. I want to return soon and possibly rent a kayak (to which Annie responded, “I can’t imagine you in a kayak”).

Tomorrow our group leaves for a week-long excursion to the northern city of Rosario. We are having a rural home stay experience for three days with agrarian families. There may or may not be agricultural labor involved. While I’m really enjoying Buenos Aires, these excursions are a nice change from the city and ways to explore the rest of the country.

Cobblestone and jazz

My last update didn’t include my delicious and inexpensive meal on Saturday night. Annie and I followed our guidebooks to a packed Peruvian restaurant. I had the best ceviche of my life (easy, given that I live in a landlocked state) along with a pisco sour, a traditional Peruvian drink made with eggs. My night continued at a few clubs with friends and, like a true porteño, I arrived home at 8am. Needless to say I was tired for the rest of the week.

Our SIT classes this week focused on the economic history of Argentina. The nation has experienced two major economic crises during the 1970s-80s and 2001, when the external debt was in the billions and economic policies just weren’t working. During the 2001 collapse, countless fábricas (factories) were closed and thousands of workers were unemployed. Many of these workers took back the fábricas and opened them without the help of the government. Some eventually received government subsidies and we visited one such fábrica this week that produces refrigerators. Our group received a tour of the fábrica where we observed the assembly process, asked questions, and talked with the workers. They work for 10 hours a day and receive about US$1,000 per month. The factory was much different than the US where machines are more prevalent. The effects of the collapse on the Argentines struck me. There isn’t a risk of complete collapse in the US because the economy is relatively stable. But in Argentina, one bad set of policies can affect millions of people and leave thousands hungry on the streets. I don’t mean to get all social conscious-y but it’s sad to see the juxtaposition of rich porteños with people who are digging through garbage to find cardboard and plastic. Today I had two kids beg me for a few centavos on the street. Buenos Aires is still the developing world even if it seems posh and European.

On Wednesday I had dinner with my friend Hannah from Beloit. She is my little sister in Theta and is studying on the same program as the two other Beloiters. We gorged on four dishes at a Mediterranean restaurant including m’saka and – of course – pita and hummus. She lived in Uruguay over the summer and knows the area pretty well. Speaking of, in mid-April our group is traveling to Brazil for a week and then splitting, with half going to Uruguay and half to Paraguay. I chose to go to Uruguay because the classes are more economically focused. Plus, I can go to the beach.

On Friday night my host dad played a solo saxophone set at a jazz club near our house. The club was called Kafka and it housed a lot of abstract art. Monica, Annie, and I shared a bottle of wine throughout the night. Monica and I also sang along with the jazz songs that Rafael was playing. It was nice to spend the evening with my family. They are out of town again this weekend so I am enjoying some alone time and trying to find the nearest Laundromat. Today Annie and I went to the barrio of San Telmo. It is ridiculously ancient and beautiful with cobblestone streets. Every Sunday there is a street fair so we perused the sidewalks for awhile.

I’d also like to wish my mom a HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Have a fantastic and relaxing day! Sorry I didn’t send a card but I’ll buy you a thoughtful and practical gift from Argentina.

I’m off to finish some homework. Take care everyone!

¿Una semana? ¿En serio?

Our classes began on Tuesday with our first seminars in field study and Spanish. The purpose of the field study seminar is to prepare us for our independent study project (ISP) which we conduct during May. I have a few ideas: comparative study of the governments in the Southern Cone, social integration of Jews in BA, conflicts between indigenous cultures and the government, disparities in economic development… I really have no idea what I’m doing. The language seminars are divided into three classes based on speaking ability. I was placed in a lower class but I think it had to do with my interview. My biggest problem is comprehension. I’ve only experienced classroom Spanish and this is my first time with “real-life” Spanish. The accent is still difficult but I am slowly remembering the language.

We also had a week of lectures about the political history of Argentina which included a visit to the Plaza de Mayo (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plaza_de_Mayo). The military dictatorships of the mid-1970s kidnapped 30,000 young people who were suspected dissenters of the government. Their mothers formed a movement called Madres de la Plaza de Mayo and have marched every Thursday for over 30 years demanding justice for their missing sons and daughters. Our group arrived late so we missed the march but we visited la Universidad de Las Madres, a college specializing in human rights education. One mother talked with our group about her involvement in Las Madres. Her daughter was one of the disappeared and she has marched every Thursday since. I couldn’t imagine living in fear during that time. The strength of these mothers to defy the military and protest every week…. it’s amazing.

Every morning I take the Subte (subway) to IDES. Sometimes I leave my house early so I can walk around the neighborhood before class. The city is quiet at 9am and doesn’t awake until mid-morning. Sometimes my curiosity can get me a tad lost but the people of Buenos Aires are kind and always help me find my way.

Along with exploring the city on foot, I’m indulging in new foods. Monica feeds me a healthy diet of vegetables, rice, and fish. She doesn’t cook much meat which is unusual for an Argentine family. Since she and Rafael are Italian, we eat lots of pasta. Her lasagna is much different from Debbie’s, though; she includes much more cheese and spinach and doesn’t use meat. Breakfast is small and I usually have café con leche (coffee with milk) and toast with cheese and fig marmalade spreads. SIT gives us a stipend of 20 pesos/day for lunch so we venture off to find new restaurants to try. There is a good Arabic place with shwarma and falafel as well as parrillas that serve carne asado, the beef of Argentina.

There are a surprising number of Beloit connections here. Annie and I went out on Thursday to meet our group when we saw our friend Noah from Beloit across the plaza. He was meeting our friend Erin; they are on the same abroad program. We all hung out for awhile and noted the chic-ness of everyone here. That might not be a word. Last night I saw our friends again and met a girl who had studied abroad with another Beloiter last semester.

Take care and I miss you all! Keep me updated with the goings-on of the States! Con amor, Erin