Sunday in Asia

My list of places to visit, know, and see in Buenos Aires is growing. Just like New York, it has something for everyone. Multiple things everyday for everyone. It’s overwhelming. And I’m trying to explore it all bit by bit.

Sunday morning I got up early and pedaled Bida (my bike, short for Bici de Mierda, with love) down to Belgrano to check out Barrio Chino. It’s about a 4 block radius, nothing like Canal Street in NYC, thank goodness, and not nearly as overwhelming. I went with the intent to buy some ingredients to cook some Asian meals, but then remembered that I don’t know how to just buy stuff and throw it together. I should have made a list .

But I wandered for hours, up and down every aisle in every grocery store (all 4 of them), gawking at the array of hot sauces and PEANUT BUTTER on offer. I treated myself to a strawberry ice cream pop, 2 chinese empanadas, which were to die for, and a spring roll. Chinese food craving satisfied.

Because it was such a nice day, and I apparently was feeling very Asian, I decided to head over to check out the Japanese Botanical Garden. Though it was beautiful, it was the wrong choice. WAY too many children. I mean, I like kids, but there is such a thing as too many in one place at one time. I did a 30-minute walk around to check it all out, then headed for the park to bask in the sun and read the news, childless.

entrance to chinatown

a sampling of the offerings

my pink popsicle

chinese empanada

bonzai trees always make me think of mr miyogi

tree

getting my read on

Yes, I love technology

While sequestered in my apartment tonight due to an rain storm of epic proportions, I decided I need to do an art project of some sort. This decision led me to iPhoto to select some greatest hits photos for a photo board to put in my room.

You know what's crazy? I think I have short-term memory. I sure am thankful for the technological invention that is digital photography. I'm one of those people who has 27 photo albums that span my years in middle school through sophomore/junior year of college, and when this new fangled technology appeared I tried to put my foot down in the old-school world vowing to never make the switch to digital. There's something about flipping through physical photo albums and remembering times that have passed. But then I gave in, and now I appreciate it. I digress.

I started with the most recent albums, then flipped through the photos of the last 9 months, of my adventures in Guatemala, Chile, Brazil, and Argentina. First of all - 9 MONTHS?! How did that happen? I actually forgot about a lot of the things I've done, experiences I've had, and people I've met. Isn't that kind of sad? Maybe it's because I spent a good 7 of those months having so many intense and amazing experiences one after the other (and don't forget those 3 months of cycling last summer!). Maybe it's something about being in a more stable place again, working, and living in an apartment, back to the a "normal" way of life that makes me forget. Whatever it is, it's thanks to my photo journey that I can remember each place, person, moment, feeling and even smell.

Of course, this led to searching through older albums. Albums including my family and closest friends, Bike & Build, New York, Indiana, and the University of Dayton. I spent about two hours flipping back through the last years of my life, reflecting on every experience, remembering every detail of every photo. Literally moments captured in time. Sometimes moving to a new place is hard. It takes time to adjust to a new place, culture, routine, group of people. It takes time to meet and form your posse so that new place starts to feel like home.

But those old photos remind me of how great my life is. Not just now, with this opportunity to live in Buenos Aires, continue learning Spanish, working a job I really like, but how lucky I am to have had such a blessed life with so many wonderful amazing people. It gives me hope for what is yet to come here, wherever I end go in the future, and for whatever I end up doing.

Similarly to the last year and a half, I don't know what the plan is, how long I'll stay here, where I'll go next, how it will all end. But I do know that I have been living my life the last few years with my eyes wide open, and as long as I continue to do so it will all work itself out. Someone once told me you get what you give. So I'll keep giving my life my all in hopes that I keep getting results similar to those of the past.

And whoever invented digital photography. I think you're the bees knees. 

Oh, and also. I miss my tan.

And these guys who I got to skype with yesterday...

The Crazies vs The Cat

Warning: if you are a cat-lover, this post might turn you off. I am by no means into animal cruelty, but I now understand a little more the insanity defense in the US justice system.

Once upon a time I wasn't a big cat fan. Then we had a cat for a bit, and they started to grow on me. I would always choose dogs over cats, but I was starting to come around. All that progress has since been erased, and I now have trouble being in the same room as these feline beings.

It all started about 6 weeks ago when I moved in. Shortly after I explained to Mariana and Diego that I could sleep through almost anything, I started waking up in the middle of the night to the neighbor's cat loudly meowing over and over without a moment of silence. I'm not talking about that kind of purring where you think, oh how cute this cat is, but more like high-pitched-continuous-crying-this-cat-is-not-cute stuff. Because our roof is made entirely of glass, it seemed to me as if the cat was on my pillow crying in my ear. I thought it was all part of getting used to a new place, and that soon I wouldn't even notice it, and decided I was just being sensitive. Then I started waking up to the cat, followed by Mariana or Digeo ssshhhing the cat, and rapping the wall with a broomstick sending messages to the cat to please knock it off.

After 2 weeks of consistency from the cat, Mariana finally went to have a civil conversation with the neighbor, explaining our plight, and asking if they could please take the cat inside during the night. The neighbor explained that she was sorry, but that the cat would be neutered in a few days, and the meowing would stop. Fine. So we waited a few days, but it got worse. And again, she went to chat with them, and then was told the other cat had cancer, and that it was now this one disrupting our sleep. Fine. We felt bad. Cancer? Horrible.

Thing is, when you spend so many nights this way, you start to turn a little crazy. And when you have consecutive nights without proper sleep, you become completely insane. The three of us wake up every morning seemingly paranoid, wondering why we wake with the urge to kill people, why we arrive to work frazzled with crazy eyes.

Our dinner conversations have gone from educating each other on our respective cultures and debating the ways of the world to plotting an assassination. We share our cat-strangling dreams and ideas of nonchalantly leaving the door open to set the cat free to roam the streets. Now I know. This is horrible. To spend the majority of your time talking about how you can poison your only neighbor's cat without your only neighbor knowing it was you is sad. But the less sleep you get, the crazier you get, and your feline homicide plans get elaborate and downright creative.

This week was definitely the worst. After 3 full nights without sleeping, I arrived at work on Friday on the verge of being forced into a mental institution. To say I was frazzled is an understatement, and my co-workers and students began to question my sanity. I spent an hour brainstorming on Facebook with Diego how to dispose of the cats. Who am I?

Then Diego informed me that they had spoken with the neighbors again, and had made it clear that it couldn't keep happening. I was relieved because I was really losing it. The night before I had listened to the unbearable crying from 7pm when I got home pretty much until the next morning at 7:30am when I woke up for work. Despite cranking loud music and yelling my newly learned Spanish profanity, I was literally falling to pieces.

Last night as we settled in for one of our Friday night dinners, we basked in the silence. No cats. No meowing. How luxurious? Could it be that the animal gods were about to gift us with a peaceful night's sleep? We laughed about our paranoid experiences with other cats that week and about how crazy our conversations had been,  but still enjoyed making a few more less violent plans such as a passive aggressive screening of youtube clips of dogs eating cats on our wall. I know. I'm sorry cat-lovers.

We wrapped up the night around 1am, and I gratefully climbed in my bed and snuggled in without setting my alarm.

And wouldn't you know it? As soon as I was on the verge of sleep, it started. And I almost started crying. Then I heard a pounding on the neighbor's door. And I strained my ear to hear every word of the conversation that followed.

Diego and Mana begged the neighbor to keep her word, sternly this time. Sorry lady, but at this point, we don't care if your cat has cancer, or a broken leg, or alzheimers. We just can't. I couldn't hear her responses, but I did hear this part from Diego, which left me in giggles and went something like this...

"Wait. How many cats do you have?"
Unheard answer from neighbor
"7 cats! Maybe you shouldn't have 7 cats if you can't take care of them."
Unheard answer from neighbor which I later found out was something about how they rescue cats from the street.
"Please, don't rescue any more cats from the street! Maybe your cats are crying all night because you they are hungry and you aren't feeding them."
Unheard answer
On and on like this

What they told me later was that the neighbor had told them they couldn't keep all 7 cats inside because they didn't have a room for each cat. What? Who has 7 cats in a TINY apartment? Then she kept playing the sympathy card. But people who have been driven insane don't have sympathy. And when you lie all the time about the situation, you lose said card. Then she told them it would only be a few more days at which point they tried to make it blatantly clear that there couldn't be another moment, let alone a few more days.

And then? SILENCE. We slept the whole night through and enjoyed a full day of catless sounds. And as I'm sitting here writing this, the cat is FUCKING OUTSIDE AGAIN. I cannot be held responsible for what is going to happen next.*

*please note i am not going to really commit a violent act against a cat. and as much as i would like to do so against the cat's owners, i'm not that keen on going to jail. my next post will most likely be from a padded cell.

Starting Early

I've been getting schooled by Argentine night life. At first I couldn't make it late enough. Then I learned to start taking naps. I do mirror-facing pump up exercises before leaving the house every night. Slowly, I'm getting adjusted. Still, we haven't had a proper Argentine late night for a while. So the plan on Saturday called for an asado at Chiang and Anina's place, followed by a wicked late night of dancing.

Saturday afternoon, as I was mentally preparing myself to "man up" for the evening I received a call from Nells informing me that someone else "booked" the parilla at our proposed 9pm start time, and asking could I be there by 5 to make a group trip to the grocery store while the sun was still shining. Ay, dios. There went my siesta plan.

So I hopped in the shower, picked up Nells, Derek, and Anina and headed to the grocery store for all the necessaries. After patiently waiting in the painstaking line (a patience we've all cultivated well here), and a dropped bottle of carefully selected cheap wine, the boys got to it on the state-of-the-art rooftop parilla while us girls broke out the Fernet and rearranged the furniture. It was a full-group effort, and by 8pm we were ready to eat, already a little toasty.

The Argentine asado is one of my favorite things about living here. It's to die for. Meat overload at its best. And we didn't waste any time. By 9pm we had eaten everything in sight, falling into slumped over Fernet and meat induced comas. I know it was 9pm because I made it a point to be the night's time-keeper. When you begin an all-night dance party hopeful evening at 5pm, it tends to be somewhat long. Sitting around the table staring at each other it dawned on everyone that we still had at least 4.5 hours to kill before hitting the town. Naps were out of the question as everyone knows the quickest way to end a good start to a night is to pretend you're going to wake up later and continue it.

So what to do in this situation? Obviously, the only logical answer was to break out the old-school college drinking games. Cause that's a way to stay alert for sure. But when you're in good company like we were, 5 hours passes like 5 seconds, and next thing we knew we were out of booze, and ready to rock. We took a detour to our friend Jacinto's house who was having an impromptu get-together. This may have been the wrong decision because during this intermediary stop we lost Chiang and Anina to the meat coma police. But Derek, Nells and I were determined that the night would not end without some serious shaking of our tail feathers.

Luckily Jacinto was with us, and after a failed stop at a hostel party where the music wasn't loud enough, our newly formed fearless fouresome found our way to the Roxy. And if there was a reward for the Roxy Rockstars, we would have won it. With the help of a badass DJ, we finally made that dance action happen. And when we left at 5am we had earned ourselves a great day of sleeping, and the oh so famous lost Sunday.

And after rising at 4pm on Sunday, Nells and Derek stopped by and we ended the weekend right with deliciously greasy all too cheesy pizza. 

the guys making magic

spectating

proud masterpiece

guitar duet

college fresh

hoarder

deep thoughts

serious rules

the beach in a glass

glances

hiccup fix

mission night out

dance mission completed - falta derek

Patience is a virtue...

If you build it they will come...
Believe and achieve...
Good things come to those who wait...
Make it happen...

Choose your favorite. Add another. The point is, sometimes shit just comes together. If I've learned one thing in life it's that I control my destiny. Ok. Obviously there is fate, circumstances, weather, whatever. But what I mean is, if I want something badly enough, and I work for it, and live positively and with purpose, and I believe I deserve something, I can achieve it. Anything is possible.

In April when I came to Buenos Aires, I saw this job posting on Craigslist...

Full time position: Administration and Office Coordinator

Fecha: 2011-04-05, 4:00PM

A growing and dynamic company based in Buenos Aires and the United States, dedicate in providing educational and cultural services. We are seeking an experienced administration professional to manage the day-to-day office operations, and to become an integral part of our international team. The ideal candidate must have:
Qualifications:
- Patient, friendly, positive & self-motivated
- Strong Verbal and Written Communication skills (English and Spanish)
- Capable of multitasking & prioritizing effectively in a casual but fast paced environment
- Able to analyze and maintain efficient office work flow and administrative processes
- Work well under pressure
- Excellent with numbers
- Critical attention to detail
- Dependable: may require occasional phone/email correspondences on weekends
- Outstanding customer service skills
- The ability to act independently, to problem solve and to handle difficult and unforeseen situations professionally
- Computer savvy. Good knowledge of Microsoft Office
- A versatile team player, who has the willingness to perform a wide range of tasks
Minimum requirements to be considered:
- Hold a University degree
- 1-2 years of working experience, preferably in the areas of Administration and Customer Services
- Plan to live in Buenos Aires for at least 1 year or more.
- Must be fluent in English. Native English speaker preferred.
- Must be able to communicate in some Spanish, preferably at an intermediate level
Benefits:
- Salary commensurate with experience
- Full time legally hired position with a work contract (no relocation is provided)
- Health insurance
- Assistance in obtaining Argentine residency (a thorough background check will be required)
- Local bank account
- Spanish language classes
We are looking to fill this position ASAP. For consideration, please apply by emailing us a cover letter and your current CV with the subject line ‘Full Time Administration Position’. In the cover letter, please also explain why you would like to live in Buenos Aires, Argentina.
Only qualified applicants will be contacted for an interview. 

And I was EXCITED. For a number of reasons. A. I was perfectly qualified. B. LEGAL work with a visa. C. Free Spanish classes anyone? D. It seemed like a job I would LOVE.

Upon further inspection, I found it was a Spanish school for foreigners, and the main part of the job was to handle student affairs. Basically, being in charge of getting new students signed up and started getting to know them when they arrive, and helping make their stay in Buenos Aires as amazing as possible. So I interviewed, and it was great. And I wanted it. And then they gave it to someone else, and I will not lie, I was bummed.

But by then I was determined to stay in BsAs, so I kept looking, and as you know if you have been paying attention, I landed a somewhat illegal position doing part-time admin work. What I didn't disclose was that it was for a company that manages websites of "adult content". Imagine how proud my parents were when their almost 30-year-old daughter Skyped to tell them she was staying in a foreign country illegally to work in porn. I obviously thought this was hilarious, and took every chance I could to say I worked in porn. 

And I've been doing the porn thing (ok, I answer customer support log-in issues, and put together a new filing system), and it's been working. I loved working part-time because I could still continue with my Spanish classes in the afternoons, and I didn't have to think about anything work-related outside of work. Can't ask for more. But I was feeling anxious sometimes, too. About the money, about health insurance, about selling-out of my sabatical ideals, and other stupid adult things. So I would peruse Craigslist for other part-time opportunities to supplement my income, which was annoying because I don't really want to spend my time in Argentina like I spent my first year in New York, working ALL the time, and digging myself into an enormous hole of debt. But I stayed positive and I kept on.

Fast forward to last Friday. I come home from work and take a gander at good old Craigsys. And there before my eyes I see another posting for a job too similar to the one above to be true. And I think. No. Can't be. Is it the same? And I think about sending them an email to ask, but then I think better of it, because there must have been a good reason they didn't choose me 3 months ago. Cut to Monday. I see a posting on one of the Expat blogs for the same thing, explaining that the guy they hired has to go back to the States for a family emergency. And then I think, shit. What do I have to lose? I wanted that job before. And if it's available again, I want it now. So I send them an email to let them know I'm still here and I'm still interested.

Tuesday morning I receive an email that it is indeed the same job, and they are happy I'm still here, and can I come in for an interview that afternoon. So I shift my day around, and furiously ride my bike all across Buenos Aires to make it happen. And when I arrive I am sweating profusely, and thinking how sorry I am that I woke up late and didn't have time to shower that day. And I have the interview, and I am so excited throughout the whole thing because it is ME. This job was made for me. Spanish, people, managing, organizing, all of it. It's right up my alley.

So they tell me they're going to make a decision Wednesday afternoon. And if it's me, I need to be ready to go full time on Monday. Uh. Monday? That's only a 2-day notice to my current boss. I hate that. That makes me feel guilty. But I tell them I will make it work. And I spend the rest of the day and night so antsy and excited I can't think straight or sleep. And I just keep thinking how badly I want it, but I try to be cool about it. Because I got that excited before, and it didn't happen.

I go to work on Wednesday on the verge of anxiety city. And I pep talk myself again, saying I have the whole morning to wait, so better get busy. And then my little cell phone rings at 10:30. And I calmly sit and listen to the other end. And you know what? They offered me that job. And I almost peed my pants in my desk chair. And in less than 24-hours my life changed. Every anxiety or concern I had is gone. 

So I gave my boss 2-days notice. But I offered to help out from home at night for a week or two until he can find someone else. Cause let's be honest, that's shitty. But I can't say no to this. Visa, residency, health insurance, Spanish classes, plus an AMAZING opportunity to actually do something I forsee myself really enjoying. So it's happening. I start at Vamos Spanish officially on Monday. And this weekend I begin the frenzy that will be working my way to a visa, residency, and being a legal worker in Argentina. 

Seriously. Don't cry for me Argentina. I'm not going anywhere.

I think it was the 4th of July

The Fourth of July is different in winter. First we held ours on July 2 because it was Saturday, and we all had to work on Monday, the actual 4th.

But even though it was freezing, we were determined to do it right. Obviously, we couldn't do it totally right because we were missing warm weather, a pool, lake, or body of water, summer, marshmallows, and American flags, but we did our best.

Nels and Derek just moved into a great new apartment, so they graciously agreed to host our gathering. I arrived early so we could start on more US time at 7. And you know what? We got that party started with...a haircut. I've been telling Derek for months now that I could/would cut his hair. I mean I did it once in the hallways of Stuart Hall at UD, so I'm perfectly capable. And yes, I did reveal the details of my own botched bang job in Chile. But Derek has long-man hair, so I felt confident. And he looks great. Success.

The night was filled with laughter, music, storytelling, and gathering around the heater. And though we missed the oohing and aahing of fireworks, we had a rip roaring good time.  We ate cheeseburgers and really mayonaisey potato salad, and we celebrated The United States of America. And between the club remixes that Karina played on Grooveshark, I got my Mellencamp and American Pie requests in. Cause what's a 4th of July without Mellencamp?

Christmas in the summer will have nothing on us.

derek's i'm scared face

the 4th of july dinner crew (and derek's arm)

the chef who made it all happen with a limited kitchen

showing off the new loft

something about clowns, thongs, and alleys

te-kill-ya

cheers...note it is not coffee in those mugs

sometimes people sit on glass tables and they break

and you have to take measurements with a piece of string

and sometimes on the 4th of July in Argentina you have to hump the heater for warmth

A New Stamp

Being an illegal laborer in Argentina means you have to leave the country every 3 months to renew your travel visa. The easiest and probably most popular option from Buenos Aires is to hop a ferry to Colonia in Uruguay. It's a small little town on the water, a UNESCO heritage site. So with my 3 months pending, I booked my ferry passage for this past Sunday.

Luckily for me I woke up Saturday morning with the flu/a terrible cold. I maybe spent 2 hours of that day awake, and can't remember the last time I was that sick (except for when I had that kidney infection last year). It also happened to be the coldest weekend Buenos Aires has seen in a while. Sweet. But I had to go, so I figured I'd make the best of it.

I woke up early on Sunday, so thankful I booked the 12:30 ferry, layered up, and took the Subte to the ferry station. I slept the full hour ride across, and gave myself a little pep talk upon arrival. I said, "self, we're going to enjoy this. Because we're here, and our return ferry isn't until 7pm, so let's buck up and make the best of it."

So I tried. I decided to spend an hour walking around seeing all the sites, then I could spend the rest of the day in a nice cafe trying not to die. But when you feel like the whole world lives in your sinuses, and everything hurts, that's easier done than said. I familiarized myself with my map, and took off toward the water. Nothing worse than a freezing cold windy day by the water when you're sick as shit. I decided some ice cream would help. I would eat ice cream, then I could continue on. So I did. And then I decided that was enough.

I took a few tourist photos, and walked back to the terminal to see about catching an earlier ferry home. I crawled to the ticket desk where I was told I just had to pay the fare difference and I would be on my way on the 4:30 ferry in 15 minutes. Praise everything! Op. Nope. "I'm sorry. Since you purchased this ticket online it's not possible to change it. You would have to buy a new ticket which would be 300 pesos." (I paid 300 pesos for the original tickets.) Because I'm on such a tight budget with my salary, this was a no-can-do situation. So I did what any rational person would do. I sat down on a bench in the middle of the terminal and began to weep. And then I had another talk withmyself. I said, "self. You're being ridiculous. What are you going to do? Sit here and cry for 3 more hours then cry the 3-hour (accidentally booked the long way home) ferry home?" And then I replied, "Fuck it. I'm buying that ticket". So I did. And by 7:30 I was back in my bed asleep.

When Monday rolled around I was still not feeling well, and called into work, opting to go it from home.  Pati told me which antibiotics to buy at the farmacy so I could start to feel normal again, no doctor necessary. Then the president of my company called to tell me I needed to bring a doctor's note to the office on Tuesday. The conversation went something like this...

"You need to get a doctor's note."
"But I haven't been to the doctor. And I don't know a doctor. And I'm not going. Listen to my voice. You can tell I'm sick."
"But you need a note on file so you don't have trouble with the state."
"But I'm an illegal. The "state" doesn't even know I'm working."
After a lengthy back and forth I talked him out of the note. And then he continued...
"But Kelly, for your own good, you should find a doctor. If something happens to you while you're here, you'll need to have a doctor."
"Ok, but Mati...(imagine my head filling with thoughts of medical emergencies with no insurance, little money, etc etc) I can't have this conversation right now."
"Kelly, I'm not trying to be dramatic, but for your best interest..."
"(sniffling) Ok, you're right. But I have to go now."

Then I hung up the phone, and sitting in my lovely new apartment alone, I began to weep again. But this time with vigor. And out loud, I said to myself, "What the fuck am I doing here?". And then after a moment, I said, "this is not the time to have this conversation." And with that I watched a pirated episode of Californication, and went back to sleep.

And Tuesday it didn't seem that bad.

no, i am not stoned. this is my "i'm sick and trying to make the best of traveling" face

on board the ferry

some random snaps to prove i went

i wanted to crawl in this car and take a nap

such a shame, it was such a nice day...but i just wanted to wrap that dog around my shoulders for warmth and sleep in the grass (if the grass was heated)

if photos could talk this one would say...i am pretty but it is very cold outside