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

Mi vida ahora

Where do I begin? I have been in this country for less than week and feel that my time has been so condensed. Chronology should be the easiest format to follow.

I departed Minneapolis on an early Tuesday morning amid a teary goodbye with my parents. I must have been in an emotional tizzy because I almost forgot to tip the Skycap (?) man who none-so-subtly asked for his tip. The flight to Miami landed at 12pm and I was to meet my fellow SIT group members at the check-in counter at 6pm. Although it was a long day I bided my time with phone calls and Spider Solitaire. I checked my luggage at 5pm and realized that I was surrounded by my future program mates. We quickly discovered that there were two SIT Argentina programs leaving on the same flight. I ate a quick dinner with some other girls and introduced myself countless times. Everyone was excited to be leaving so soon and it was great to meet some new people. Our flight through the LAN airline for Buenos Aires left at 9pm and was due to land at 9am on Wednesday. I never realized how posh international airlines are. Each seat had an individual TV stocked with movies, TV shows, games, you name it. I slept on and off for the next few hours and tried to watch Casablanca which ironically put me (the self-proclaimed film aficionado) to sleep. There was some light turbulence around Tennessee which slowed down the flight and we landed an hour later at 10am. Most everyone was groggy in the customs line. No one knew what to expect next; we knew that the groups would split in two and we would be hauled off to an orientation for a few days. During my check-in the customs man mentioned that he worked in St. Paul at 3M! It’s a small world.

We started to retrieve our luggage and I waited…and waited…until there was no more luggage from our flight and my sole bag was MIA. Panicked, I was directed the LAN baggage counter. I think the attendant could tell that I was frightened by my mix of English and broken Spanish. Since I didn’t have a phone number or address to give her, she told me that my luggage would arrive that afternoon and I should call the following number. I left the baggage claim feeling defeated even though I knew that my luggage would come soon. As soon as I left customs I heard someone call my name. It was Annie! For those who don’t know, my close friend and former roommate Annie applied to the same program as me. She studied in Brazil last semester and I was beyond excited to see her. Needless to say we had a joyous embrace. Ana Rita and Pablo, two of our program directors, were present and told me not to worry about my luggage; they would take care of everything. The groups split as expected and the Southern Cone kids (20 in total) headed to a bus outside.

The first thing I noticed about Buenos Aires was the sweltering humidity. It was sunny and it was hot. I was exhausted after walking a few meters carrying my laptop bag and purse. We piled onto a bus and left for an unknown destination. Annie had been in Buenos Aires for a few days and observed that were heading in the opposite direction of the city. While we chatted Ana Rita introduced herself and told us a bit about the program. I would be lying if I said that I understand what she really said. The Argentine accent is very difficult to understand. There is a definite Italian influence that makes sounds blend together and requires some repetition for a full understanding.

The bus stopped at our destination for orientation. It was Las Clavelinas, a sort-of retreat center for members of the gastronomic union of BA. There were soccer fields, a pool and gym, restaurant, and hotel rooms. I roomed with Annie and Merritt, who has been abroad multiple times and seemed very relaxed. The room had one bedroom with two beds, a small bathroom, an entry with another bed, and no air conditioning. Welcome to Buenos Aires! We next attended our first round of orientation seminars. Our program directors are Alan and Ana Rita, who are professors in Buenos Aires. They both speak fantastic English and said that they wanted us to “take it easy” so the first day would conducted in both English and Spanish. I was very grateful. After some icebreakers (the name game, etc) and seminars about the program we ate a group dinner in the restaurant. It was wonderful to finally meet everyone. We have a diverse group: students from every part of the US. There are 6 guys and 14 girls. I went to bed early that night and pondered how I would speak and understand Spanish when I hadn’t spoken it in months.

The next day was similar to Wednesday. We had seminars about security and safety and interviews with the program director. My luggage arrived safely during my interview which was a BIG relief. One of the classes in my program is Intensive Spanish so we had short interviews with the Spanish professors to determine our comprehension levels. Of course I was nervous during mine and I think I talked about my sorority and involvement in choir. During the afternoon I left the grounds and walked to a local pharmacy a few blocks down. I had my first taste of Argentina without interacting with Americans. There were many auto shops and small cars and graffiti. The streets smelled of exhaust and I saw lots of stray dogs. In the evening some students from the University of Buenos Aires (UBA) visited us so we could practice our Spanish. They were funny and warm and one even called my Spanish “bastante bien” (pretty good)! I got to talk about American politics and Hispanic films without sounding like a complete moron. They joined us for dinner which was a riot. Argentines are so welcoming. After dinner the SIT crew partook in some Argentine cervezas and hung out for awhile. It’s a good group: they’re interesting and intelligent and hilarious.

Friday was Judgment Day. We would get information about our host families and move in with them in the evening! Adriana, the home stay coordinator, conducted a seminar about home stay expectations then presented info about our families. I would be living with Rafael and Monica, an older couple. My home was not far from IDES, the graduate institute where our classes are held. We soon left by bus for Buenos Aires. The freeways were similar to the States except everyone drives crazily and many people did double-takes at seeing a bus full of Americans on the road. We arrived in Buenos Aires and I was stunned by the city. There were statues and enormous parks with palm trees and endless apartment buildings. Our host families would be coming later in the evening so Annie, Merritt, and I walked around the city for awhile. Merritt commented that I looked Argentine but I think it was because of my skinny jeans. We returned at 6:30pm and our host families were waiting for us…..

Rafael is a fascinating fellow. I introduced myself and nervously began speaking poor Spanish because I wanted to impress him. “Take it easy,” he kept telling me while eating the sandwiches provided by the IDES staff. He is tall and lean and wears rimless glasses. Rafael is a saxophonist who studied at the Berklee School of Music in Boston and was a composer of commercial jingles and scores for movies and TV. His wife, Monica, arrived shortly thereafter. She is a psychiatrist in BA and a bossanova singer. We left IDES as I tried to think and speak only in Spanish though my mind was frantic. I was frazzled and nervous during our cab ride to their apartment. My new home is in the Barrio Norte neighborhood in Buenos Aires. It is an upper-middle class area with lots of shops and restaurants and people. I live on Calle Ayacucho on the seventh floor of an apartment building. They showed me the apartment: it is cozy and very long. Picture it: starting from one end there is a bathroom, my bedroom, the kitchen, living room and dining room, their bedroom, another bathroom, and the door to a balcony. Rafael showed me the balcony which has amazing views. The building is surrounded by dozens of other buildings that seem to go on forever. “Remember the flag if you are lost,” he said, pointing to the Department of Water building with a giant Argentina flag on the top post. I unpacked and then took a nap before dinner because I was exhausted. My room is small like my first room at Beloit. From the left there is a nightstand, a bed, small TV, a window with a view like the balcony, and five shelves mounted on the wall. It’s perfect.

I feel like I could write forever about my home. The living room has dozens of books and jazz and bossanova CDs. Rafael played me the US national anthem on his saxophone and he is a fantastic player. I told him that I didn’t know jazz very well to which he responded, “You don’t need to know…you need to feel. Like when you look at a painting.” Their apartment has several works of abstract art, too. They’ve hosted several exchange students before and had a few tips for me. For example, don’t put stickers on the wall because that requires new paint. Use the corkboard that they installed if you want to display pictures or maps. Side note: I printed some pictures of my family and friends to bring to Argentina. Mom: Just so you know, I took the duplicate picture of you and John in the Santa hats. Dad and Debbie: I printed the “family photo op” from Christmas Eve.

Though I was happy to be at my new home, I felt completely overwhelmed with everything. I couldn’t understand most of what Rafael and Monica said to me and just kept nodding and saying “yes.” I felt better at dinner when we talked about American politics (a popular topic in Argentina) and our families. Their relatives are from Italy and Monica made some gnocchi for my first meal. Earlier in the day I gave them a present: a bag of wild rice from Minnesota. They seemed intrigued but didn’t know how to prepare it. Neither did I, really….I know, I know, it’s shameful! I suggested that they cook it in a dish or something…but seriously, somebody give me some suggestions. I can only feign ignorance for so long.

Saturday felt better. In the morning Rafael and I engaged in a passionate debate about the perception of the US in South America. He fiercely disagrees with the Bush administration and historical US foreign policy in general. I agreed with him on some points but we argued about others. These kinds of interactions create a very different perspective of the US for me because I’ve never had to defend my country so much. I expected to encounter anti-US sentiments but it’s hard to construct arguments when there is a language barrier. Rafael said he didn’t mean to attack me but he feels strongly about his opinions and I respect that. During the afternoon they left and I went exploring in BA. My first stop was an Internet café because there is no Internet access at my house. IDES has wireless and there are tons of cafes in the city so I will have no problem with accessing the Internet. I bought a phone card for my new cell which I borrowed from my friend Ruthie, who was in BA last spring. Luckily I came home before a giant rainstorm then went back out afterwards. Rafael and Monica have the address list of my program mates so I recorded everyone’s addresses. Annie lives a few blocks from me and I decided to see where she lived. Lo and behold I ran into Annie while we were crossing the same street! It was magical. We had some coffee and then she invited me to her house. I met her family: a mother and grandmother. They are crazy: the mother talks about the unavailability of men in BA and the grandma wears heels all day. Annie’s host mother showed us a picture of a girl she previously hosted….who is a senior at Beloit. What a coincidence! We were both astounded. Annie and I decided to meet up with our program mates at a café near IDES to celebrate a birthday of one girl.

Well….it took us awhile to figure out how to get there. The bus system in BA is out of control. There are hundreds of buses and a very, VERY confusing map for each bus. You could live your whole life here and never figure it out. We found the right bus after some searching and finally (!) found IDES. There was no group in sight, however, so we called our friend Erin. She also attends Beloit and is studying with a different program this semester. We ate dinner at a loud, packed restaurant. I had my first Argentine empanada which was meat and onions in a flaky crust. I think. Then we shared a pizza and went to Erin’s apartment. The night life in BA is insane, much like everything here. Dinner is between 10pm and 12am on weekends and clubs are open until 7 or 8am. Erin took us to an Irish pub where we met friends from her program. One girl knew some former Beloiters…the connections never end. Annie and I stayed until 3:30am and then were too tired to function. My body needs to adjust to the Argentine schedule. Days are much longer here. Dinner on weeknights is between 9 and 10pm. Meal portions are much smaller. It seems fast-paced and relaxed at the same time.

This is my third day in Buenos Aires and I’m still overwhelmed. The city is amazing. It is so full of life and people and dogs dressed up in raincoats and endless buildings and traffic and exhaust and kiosks. My head was spinning from walking around today but I know that I need to live day to day. I can feel my Spanish improving from Friday, when I thought I couldn’t make it here. I miss all of you but I feel like I need this semester to distance myself from the familiar. There are many adventures ahead: trips to rural Argentina, Brazil, and Uruguay/Paraguay, learning to ride the Subte (subway), starting my classes, and much more. Thanks for bearing with this long entry and I’ll write more when I can. Take care and I’m sending my love from many time zones away.

Estoy aqui

It is 1pm in Buenos Aires and I am sitting in an internet cafe near my homestay. The last few days have been quite an adventure. While I would update now, there is so much I want to write and I don´t want to pay for all of the Internet time. My host family does not have any Internet connection but IDES (where my classes are held) has wireless. Look for an update by Monday. But I am here and safe and completely overwhelmed with the city and speaking Spanish. I don´t think I´ve ever nodded so much in my life. I miss you all and promise an enthralling new entry soon. Hasta, Erin

Tomorrow, tomorrow

After what has seemed like years of anticipation, I am finally leaving the Midwest tomorrow morning. I am spending four months in Buenos Aires, Argentina studying with the SIT Southern Cone study abroad program. SIT is an independent study abroad program provider that "bridges cultures and transforms lives" according to the website. You can find more info here: http://www.worldlearning.org/ssa_ard.htm. My program focus is regional integration and political and economic development in the Southern Cone of South America. I will be staying with a host family and taking field trips to Brazil and Paraguay or Uruguay. During the last month of the program I will be researching my independent study project and living in an as-yet-undetermined locale in Buenos Aires.

I have been home since the end of December making this the longest winter break on record. In retrospect my time was well spent: I worked for 6 weeks, saw Obama speak twice (and SHOOK HIS HAND...it was magical), and saw loads of family and friends.

It is 9:50pm and I still need to pack my suitcase. My flight leaves from Minneapolis at 7am which means I have an ungodly early wake-up hour. I arrive in Miami at 11:30am and wait to check in for my next flight until....6pm. Oh joy! The group flight to Argentina is at 9pm and then I (finally) arrive in BA at 9am! There is a four-hour time difference between Minnesota and Argentina which equates to an 8-hour flight tomorrow night. All of these numbers are making my head spin.

I know this semester will be challenging and difficult but I could not be more excited to go. When I come back to the States I want to say that I regret nothing from my travels. I want to meet locals, experience city nightlife, go to soccer (fútbol) matches, travel to wine country, fall in love with the infamously delicious beef, work my tail off with my seminars, and enjoy every minute of life in Argentina. Take care everyone and I'll update when I can! Hasta luego, Erin