I should be in the X games.

Everyday is an adventure. It’s more than just a mantra at this point; it’s incredibly too real. Ok so first of all, I begin each day thanking Dios that I have not (yet) been run over by a car … or a moped… or a bike. With pride, I have now become one of the many bikers that used to try to run me over when I was a walker. Ask and you shall receive. So I asked to use one of our bikes, and the next day (Monday), I was off, feeling pretty on top of the world about leaving super early to rewrite a draft before class started. On that bike, I soared. This was a new level of confidence, passing pedestrians, driving OVER water puddles rather than looking to cross over still-employed train tracks to over them. I zoomed, I whizzed, etc.

So I got to school super early. It was humid outside. So much for looking anyhow better for having ridden the bike rather than walking. I was dying of heat. But that’s ok; I had 45 minutes. I rewrote my draft, and as I was packing up to walk to the classroom, it began to drizzle. Oh wait, there is no such thing as drizzle here (one word I won’t have to learn the cordobese version of). It began POURING. So I moved my bike to under a shelter and sulked into class, which I endured for three hours, all spent in daydreams that the rain would stop. However it continued to pick up, pick up, pick up, pelleting the building, producing blue streaks and scaring the crap out of all of us. Well, I could ride the bus. Except that I have no tokens left, they aren’t selling them anywhere (because the price goes up in March and thus everywhere, EVERYWHERE, the places that they tell you to buy from in bulk, are sold out), and if I borrowed one I would have to get my bike back somehow. Ok so maybe it wasn’t raining that hard, and I needed to get back for almuerzo and siesta time. So I took off, and within 10 feet I had dirt splattered all over me. My friends reached for their cameras as I peddled by, and I’m pretty sure the whistles and blown kisses I got on the way home were sarcastic. I showed up at my front door wanting nothing but to not be seen and take a hot shower, but luckily both host parents were waiting for me to eat. Thus was my Monday.

Rewind, because it’s been a while: Last week, was a boring week, but a full week. We visited the second-oldest church in Argentina, and the first Jesuit library in South America, which hosted some of the first 500 books ever printed, and the oldest University in Argentina and maybe South America as well. I’m not going to lie, I was pretty giddy. Not to mention, the church tour was in English(!) and the guide was awesome.

(Sidenote: I no longer place commas in between independent clauses. I know I’m supposed to but they don’t do it in Spanish so I’m trying to convert for a few months. Close parenthesis.

That was last Thursday, after a host of meetings and with a paper due on Friday. Friday night I went out. I left the house at 12 to go to a friend’s apartment with all the international kids. The apartment was in the heart of downtown, on the 13^th (top) floor and overlooked the city. Amazing. At around 2 we went to the boliche that was next door. They played a lot of electronica in both languages and it was pretty hilarious. I enjoyed fernet and coke and took a taxi home at around 4:30 (early) with a couple of other kids. Luckily one was Argentine and he could communicate in real Spanish where we needed to go. I hate taxi rides (segway to next night).

Saturday night we went to a folklore/doma festival in Berrotarán. Never heard of it? Surprise. About 7,000 people live there. It’s in the middle of NOWHERE. The festival? A gaucho festival. They raised the gaucho Virgin and prayed and everything. There were fireworks and a little family playing Argentine folklore. We ate traditional food (stews and sausage), drank cheap beer and wine, and watched as about 15 gauchos tied horses up to poles, struck them with sticks, then untied them and saw how long they could stay on the bucking thing. I bought a Brazilwood ring. Then we got back on our two big buses and returned to the school, at 3:30am, where we took a taxi with a driver who had no IDEA what we were saying, and thus we almost got lost and very much so pissed the driver off. Everyday’s an adventure.

Sunday I went to the Paseo del Arte, where my family vends their goods but also just a well-known hippy-artisan place. I bought my own mate!!! It has a hibiscus flower, and it costed $6 pesos, and I’m very happy about it. I went to a café that was outdoors and upstairs and was asked again where I was from. I wanted just a beer and little snack, but when I did what I thought was ordering, my waitress laughed at me. When it came out, a chocolate drink was part of my snack. Sooooo I once again proved that I have no idea what I’m doing here. As I did again on Monday night, at tango lessons, which was another disaster, and I figure that I will just stick to sports from now on. For the rest of my life.

I almost had my first Argentine date tonight but I chickened out. One of the Argentine tutors asked me to dinner but I just can’t see myself making conversation in Spanish with anyone but my host family right now. The two sides of my brain between comprehension and speaking are not generally correlating, and that’s a problem on first dates. BUT I might go horseback-riding this weekend with one of the tutors, and even though he’s 30 and a little creepy, and I’m not the least-bit interested, I do love horses.

Class gets worse every day. Today we did arts and crafts. I have realized that there is sooo much vocab that I don’t yet know that I will be screwed in March when real classes start. How was I supposed to know what the pants or the little tie or the beret-hats that a gaucho wears are called?

Oh last note:

I finally gave in and washed my clothes today. Disgusting, I know, but I was scared!! It goes like this: fill up this large bucket thing with water from the hose and soap, put a load in, then take it out, put it in a dirty rusty bucket, and change out the water for the next load. Then dump that water, and fill it with clean water, wring out the bucket-clothes, and rinse them in the large bucket thing. Take them out and put them in the “dryer,” which just drains out most of the water, and hang on the line. It’s not all that hard, but I’m pretty sure that none of my clothes are actually clean. At least I have something to wear tomorrow (when I go horse-back riding in the sierras on a trail! A real trail!)

Nothing planned for the weekend, but the one after, we are going to the Noroeste (Northwest) to visit something. Indian ruins or Jesuit estancias or a carnaval/festival or something. In March we miss a day of class to go to Buenos Aires! Hooray. Patagonia for Easter break? Mendoza with my Clemson spring-breakers?

Ps- I hope everyone in Clemson with this epidemic flu thing gets better! If it makes you feel any better, it is REALLY hot here, and I’ll probably go to a pool tomorrow before my horseback-riding. If I’m not siesta-ing.