Seriously guys, I'm the worst at having a blog. Maybe not the worst but it's pretty bad and I'm sorry.
This one is late because I had it half written but then I lost it. I lost a file. On my own computer. Then I had no motivation to do it all again for a week, then when I looked again I ended up finding it. So basically it's a week late for no good reason. Without further ado:
After the South Trip, something happened. I have no idea why- it doesn’t make any sense- but I’m so glad it did.
The chaperones told us collectively at least a million times a day that we should be speaking Spanish; otherwise when we went back, we would be worse off than before. Not to say that the Rotarians didn’t have our best interest at heart, but that was an absolute lie (at least for me.) See, I spoke English. A lot of English. And I believed that coming back would be hard- that I’d regret those 10 easy days. Instead, it was like some switch flipped. The day I got back, I felt refreshed, rather than bogged down. Confident in my Spanish, more willing to join conversations. Maybe it was the trip itself; maybe it was taking a break from Spanish; maybe it was being around other students who spoke better and inspired me. Whatever it was, it got me out of a rut I didn’t know I had been stuck in.
From there, a lot of things just clicked for me. My (already great) relationship with my host family started to improve, I became more outgoing with my friends. And so far, it doesn’t seem to be fading away.
In the week before Christmas, I stayed busy. Spent a lot of time catching up on my tanning, since I lost 10 days. Snuck behind my family’s back to buy them Christmas presents. Picked out my Christmas present (more on that later.) Invited my friends over for dinner, American style, since I’m too broke to buy them actual gifts.
That night was pretty amazing. I decided to make grilled cheese sandwiches, because it’s simple and delicious and most of all, so fattening that you can’t deny the American- ness. I scared everyone by putting bacon on them (it’s seen as almost taboo because it’s so fatty, which breaks my heart to be entirely honest.) But the scaring wasn’t only one- way. I nearly had a heart attack when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw my host mom casually pick up a raw piece of bacon and put the whole slice into her mouth. I thought it was a joke, but was swiftly assured by everyone in attendance that I was the weird one. I guess I never thought about it before, but it is edible- not that I’ll be throwing the frying pan out any time soon.
Everyone loved it, and for dessert we shared a box of Patagonian chocolates. Safe to say we were quite content. To top off the night, we did one of my favorite things ever: drive around. Yeah, ok, I know it doesn’t sound exciting in any way. But there’s really not all that much to do in this town, so we do what we can. And driving around with all the windows down, singing along to songs that I’ve finally learned the words to- that’s not a shabby way to kill an hour.
Flash forward to the 23rd. Since here celebrations happen on the 24th, the 23rd became my Christmas Eve. So I stayed in, turned on the tree’s lights, whipped up some egg nog, pulled out some American candy from my stash, and put on my favorite Christmas movie. It was a nice little moment, and the first time I’d felt “Christmassy.” See, for us up north, the Christmas feeling kind of permeates everything for the entire month of December. Here, it’s not that way. The traditions are more relaxed. Everyone puts up their decorations on December 8th. But decorations, as far as I saw in my house and others, are really just a tiny tree and maybe some lights. Besides that, it’s business as usual all month.
The 24th started out normally- I woke up, ate lunch with my host grandparents, took a dip in the pool, and siesta’d. Things only got ~festive~ around 10, when we loaded up all of the gifts and joined the rest of the family at my host grandparent’s house.
We ate dinner, which was really an assortment of appetizers- nothing special or unusual for Christmas like we have. Then we went out on the patio, and my host brother hooked up some music to the big speakers that he'd lugged over from our house for the following previa (pre- party, basically). It wasn't cumbia or reggaeton like I expected. Instead, it was more traditional couple music. Cousins danced with cousins, moms with sons, daughters with dads- you get the point- until midnight. Argentine fashion we started pouring the champagne at 12 instead of drinking it because no one noticed what time it was.
Then came time for presents. Here, the tradition is that a dad will dress up as Santa (Papa Noel), and show up on the roof at midnight, dropping the gifts down to the kids. But since my host cousins already figured that gig out long ago, my host mom just carried a mountain of presents out to us.
I got platforms from my host family (!!!) that I'd chosen out because I'm picky, and immediately switched out of my Birks, feeling very Argentine and very fashionable. My host aunt gave me a journal which I will definitely use because I'm already halfway through my third journal of the year which is crazy, and my host grandma gave me a necklace. I was really beyond blessed with all of it- I wasn't expecting anything (besides the shoes, of course). Not to be outdone, I brought out my gifts: pajamas! In my family, every year on Christmas Eve we get pajamas. So I thought it would be a great way to share my traditions with them. Also bought some Patagonian chocolates for my amazing host grandma.
Soon afterwards, I left to meet up with my friends. We stayed with one of the girls' families for about an hour, but ended up going back to my host brother's previa. And those were the only people we saw all night, basically. There were two venues open on Christmas. And in a town this small, that's kind of an issue. I think somewhere around 2,000 people went to the other event center; my friends and I were some of the 40 people in the pub. Sounds kind of awkward (was kind of awkward) but it ended up being really cool. We had space to actually dance, however we wanted, without worrying about everyone's drinks spilling on our cute outfits. And, we got in for free, which is always always worth it.
It's rare to wrap gifts here; normally they're left in the bag they were bought in.
Cousin Pauli, sister Camila, and me (obviously)
My amazing host family, all dolled up for the night.
Fast forward 5 days to New Years Eve. It was really more of the same- eat dinner all together, dance, toast. But my favorite thing of the night came probably 15 minutes after midnight. From what I gather, this is only a thing in Alberti, maybe a few other places- but it's unique. The volunteer firefighters lead the line, followed by blocks and blocks of cars filled with families (some piled into the back of pickup trucks). When we heard the sound of car horns, we knew it was time to run out to the car. All you have to do is drive till you find the end, pull in behind the last car, and lay on the horn. If you don't join in, you can always just wait outside your house and wave- just like parades at home. We did this for about half an hour, then I asked to be dropped off at the same friend's house as Christmas.
This time we went to the busy venue, which blessedly has a huge outdoor area where we were able to not only watch a firework show, but also not die of heatstroke. It was cool.
That's definitely an energy drink, by the way.
I started walking home around 7, and was asleep an hour later. Three hours, maybe four, later, I was peeling my eyes open again. My next host family had invited me to eat lunch with them, and of course I wanted to- it was worth the lack of sleep. By 12, I was chilling poolside. By two, eating asado. By 4, chilling poolside some more. I finally went home around 7, still tired but sporting a sweet tan.
New host cousin (who does CrossFit!), new host sister, and new host mom, who asked me to squat down so we would be at the same height (she was on her tiptoes already).
The next morning I left on the first of my summer vacations. Armed with my swimsuit and not much else, we set off on the three hour drive to Villa Gesell. I didn't get much sleep- road trips are a lot more fun when there aren't 3 basically- adults in the backseat of a truck on bumpy roads. When we got there, I took a power nap, then we went to this really cool beach. It's a bit out of the way, but you can drive onto the sand with your truck or car or whatever, and park wherever you want. Most people who go there bring their 4x4s or motorcycles to ride in the dunes. Since my host brother does competitive motocross, he practiced while we sat under a tent and drank mate and listened to music from the open doors of the truck.
The next 5 days fell into a tranquil little pattern: wake up, walk a block to the beach, walk to lunch, sleep a bit more, go to the other beach, walk to dinner, explore the main street, go to sleep, repeat. I never considered myself a beach- vacation type person; I prefer to do things that don't involve swimming, an activity at which I am inept. But just talking, drinking mate, relaxing- it was way nicer than I thought it would be. At night, we did a bit of shopping ( I caved and bought a new swimsuit), went mini- bowling, and enjoyed the occasional ice cream.
Also, it was a great way to spend my last week with my first family. Kind of a drawn- out goodbye. A few days after coming home, I changed families. It was really an anti- climactic event; my host mom and I brought my bags (all 100 of them) inside, then we sat at the pool (yay for families with pools!) and shared mate and just enjoyed the day.
I spent a week with them, unpacking and learning the ropes and whatnot. Then, last Sunday, I left again for Vacation Number Two, in Buenos Aires. My new host brother has an apartment there, so we just had to bring sheets and a tupperware full of milanesa to tide us over for the week. Every day in the afternoons, we met up with two of his friends- one who also lives in the city, and one girl from France. They all exchanged the same year, to my district in the US, so we had tons to talk about. I swear I’ve never walked so much in my life- but it was worth it. I can really say that I fell in love with the city.
For my dedicated readers: I mentioned a neighborhood of the city that I really liked, but couldn’t remember the name of. Well, we went back and now I do remember- it’s called Palermo SoHo. Other areas we saw: San Telmo, La Costanera, Caminito (the third time for me), more of Palermo, Recoleta… I’m probably forgetting some. We also went to a festival- thing (I’m at this point where I forget random words in English. I don’t know if there is a word for this but if there is, I don’t know what it is anymore.) Anyways, there, I found *American Food*. A pulled pork barbeque sandwich, to be exact, and it was GLORIOUS. But I’m getting ahead of myself- it was held at the horse tracks, and was absolutely full of people lining up for the various food trucks, listening to music and just hanging out.
Another thing to mention- I finally got to go to CrossFit again! I had seen a gym before, near where my first host sister lived. So I looked up their information, and walked there one morning. It was actually really scary because as much as I like to pretend that I’m still in tip- top shape, I’m not. But it went better than I thought it would. It's hard to describe, but I felt like I could breathe again, despite the fact that I could barely breathe (irony!).
Afterwards, I bought a shirt, and got talking to the trainer. When I told her my whole situation, she said I could come in for free as long as I was visiting- which was amazing and unexpected. I could have gone in two more times, but the crippling soreness convinced me to only go the next morning.
I got home a few days ago and finally feel like I have time to catch up on writing. Barely, though- tomorrow I leave for Staycation Number Three, a 5 day trip to Chivilcoy. Man oh man am I glad I chose South America. Hope all that snow and early mornings in school feel nice :)
Because I’m feeling depressed, I will not be ending this blog on a positive note.
I am officially halfway through my exchange, and I can’t believe it.
I didn’t really see it coming, because I only just confirmed my return date. It’s earlier than most students, too, because I have a trip to go on in June. Yeah, yeah, I know some of you are saying “wow life is so hard she has to go from a trip to a trip.” But it was a hard decision, and it’s been hard to come to terms with the fact that half of my memories have already been made.
I’ll try to update a little more frequently!
Besos
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