I can not believe that the month is almost over! It has flown by and I have so much to share with all of you!
In general:
Buenos Aires is a gorgeous city full of history and life. The city sidewalks are like runways where the world's most beautiful women strut their stuff and dark men in business suits gaze in awe. In the middle of summer's humidity, sensuality drips down every corner. Although these exterior appearances portray the Argentines as rich, egotistical snobs, most Argentines portray themselves this way to cover up their insecurities. Like every big city, Buenos Aires is a confused mix of decline and prosperity. The locals whisper about the financial crisis of 2001 that has produced a phenomen of the rich-getting-richer and poor-getting-poorer-with-a-vanishing-middle-class that is so prevalent in the city. Most portenos (people from Buenos Aires) have a living-on-the-edge insecure mentality that is about needing to appear confident at all costs. In Buenos Aires, it is all about image. Despite the fact that 50% of the country's population is considered to be living in poverty (after the crisis of 2001), many Argentines will dress 'richer' than they actually are. This obsession with looks has given Argentina one of the highest rates of plastic surgery in the world-- which has reinforced their reputation as a country of beautiful people. Ironically or not, Buenos Aires is also the city with the most psychologists per capita. B.A. is a city that rough, refined and being reborn all at once. I'm learning that the superior attitude that portenos exhibit that terrified me at first is mostly a veiled frustration for seeing their country--once the richest on the world--collapse over decades of corruption into a financial and political hell-hole. So, if they can maintain their proud spirit and sense of self-importance amidst this adversity, then more power to them!
Highlights:
1. CARNAVAL!
This past Wednesday night, my friends and I were cooking dinner when we heard NOISE in the street. The noise was more than the usual car horns, ambulance sirens and vroom-vroom of motorcycles. So, we peeked out the window and saw THE CARNAVAL happening right on our very street! We raced down our stairs and joined the festivities on the street! There were drums and trumpets and saxophones! Brightly colored costumes and face-paint covered everyone from tiny tots and teenage girls to older men and women! And everyone was dancing and singing! They sprayed cans of foam and threw water balloons and confetti-- and the mob of people slowly paraded down the street. One guy in a costume became my "tour guide" and was telling me all about the Carnaval. He said that the different colored costumes correlated to different provinces of Argentina! He said, "We dance and we sing because we are free!" The Buenos Aires Carnval is like a baby compared to the mama Carnavals in Rio or Bahia-- but it was awesome and so much fun!
2. Voleibol
Surprisingly, playing volleyball has provided an outlet in which I have made many Argentine friends! At the gym I joined (yes Annie, I actually joined a gym!), they have volleyball 4 nights a week. Anybody can play and there has been a unique "core group" of players: a lawyer, a banker, some local high school students, a mom, a physical trainer, a doctor, and some international students! Anyway, they are all AWESOME at volleyball and so kind to me when I screw up (which is often!). At this gym, I've also tried out some yoga, "fit ball" and pilates classes. Usually I'm among a bunch of older women and I don't understand everything that the teacher says. It's been a good way to learn certain words that I wouldn't normally use-- like "SUSPIRAS!" (exhale!)
3. Professional dog walkers:
This is one of my favorite parts of the city. At first, I just thought that certain people had a LOT of dogs. No. They are professional dog walkers. They often walk the dogs (up to 15 dogs at once!) in the Palermo parks. One day I asked the guy if I could hold the leashes just to see how it felt to walk with 15 dogs. He didn't understand my Spanish (happens often)-- but understood my actions-- and let me! It was so much fun. New goal in life= be a professional dog walker.
4. EVITA
I visited her tomb. I learned about her life. The infamous "Recoleta Cemetery" is amazing-- but because ALL the tombs are so extravagantly designed and built-- Evita Peron's was really nothing special. But SHE is special and has earned a special place on my list of "People I'm Obsessed With." Now the list looks something like this: 1. David Booth 2. Michelle Obama 3. Cara Stevens 4. Evita Peron.
5. Mate
This is my absolute FAVORITE part of my experience so far. Nothing captures Argentina better than the traditioin of mate! This is perhaps the only cultural practice that transcends the barriers of ethnicity, class, sex and occupation in Argentina. More than a simple drink like tea or coffee, mate is an elaborate ritual, shared among family, friends, co-workers-- and sharing is the whole point. Mate involves a cebador (server) who fills the gourd (which is also referred to as the mate) almost to the top with yerba, then pours very hot water into the vessel. It is then passed to the group, beginning with the person on the left. Each person drinks the gourd dry and then hands it back to the cebador, who fills it and gives it to the next person. Everyone drinks from the same cup. An invitation to mate is the best cultural treat-- time spent with friends and a yummy tea-like drink!
Inconvenient Truths (I'm learning about myself):
1. I can't cook.
And I mean I really can not cook. I burned instant pudding the other night. Ketchup and mustard have become dear to me as they cover up the awful taste of whatever I make. I'm perservering. I will learn. Oh, and Dave... peanut butter does not exist here, so I can't rely on the good ole bagels and peanut butter.
2. I'm uncomfortable being my own companion.
I need to be surrounded by people 90% of the day. I go nuts if I have ample time just to think... So, I have made some quality friends this month. Here is a little description of some of them:
-Stephen-- NICE times 29 million. He graduated from Oklahoma State University in May and will begin Teach For America in CT this fall. His mission in life is to make others around him happy. This is what he has done: On Valentine's Day he put red roses on all the girls' doors on 6th floor, he makes food for people, he rents movies and invites everyone to watch them in his room, he organized a 30 person comida a la conasta (pot luck) on the 6th floor! In my opinion, he's surpassed his goal!
-Fernanda-- PATIENT and MATURE. She's 18 and from the province of Buenos Aires. She is here to study for 7 YEARS! Yeah, 7 years. She's studying biology and genetics. She doesn't speak English so she's wonderfully patient when I attempt to speak Spanish. Any 5 minute conversation that I would have with an English-speaking person takes an hour with Fernanda. But, it's time spent with a good friend and I love it.
-Aie (pronounced Ash-ay)-- SWEET. She almost has a Lisa Skildum pitched voice. Almost. She is also 18 years old and from Bariloche in Patagonia. Her family owns a little hotel and she is one of the most humble people I have ever met. She speaks fluent English and that's nice for when Fernanda and I just can not understand one another. Aie is studying to be a flight attendent! She looks like a model and cares for everyone. Pure loveliness.
-Erica-- CRAZY FUN. She is 24 years old and from Australia. We walk and run together most mornings and talk about everything from poop stories to international politics and stances on religion. Erica strikes a wicked balance between being a deep-thinker and being completely carefree. She enjoys the Argentine nightlife and no one (even her) ever knows what she'll do or say.
-Cami-- ADORABLE. She is my roommate and is 18 years old from Vina del Mar, Chile. She is a teeny-tiny ballerina with a humungo heart.
There are so many people here that I've become fond of: Matheus and Thiego and Ton from Brazil, Ellen from Iceland, Pabs, Gustavo, Jazmin and Gaston from Argentina, Ellie, Will and James from England, and Andrea from Ecuador. It's a unique cultural experience to live in this residencia and even more for me because I live in the kitchen!
3. I need my green.
The small patches of lawn (a 4 foot by 4 foot patch of grass) that graces the fronts of only the richest homes in Buenos Aires is not enough green for me. The color is hard to come by. But, I'm learning that to flourish, I need to see it in abundance everyday. My "happy place" (as I call it) is where I go (as often as I can) to get in a dosage of my green. Puerto Madero is my happy place for a number of reasons. First and most importantly, Puerto Madero is the neighborhood where the Reserva Ecologica Constanera Sur is located. This place is my paradise. It's an escape from the air pollution produced by the fleets of taxis, millions of cars and set of diesel buses that clog the streets-- and escape from all the noise-- and an escape from all the people. The Reserva hosts wide running trails, a riverside view and natural plants and animals that can grow and roam freely. It's a weekend site for picnickers, cyclists, families, bird-watchers and lovers to pause and enjoy green.
L.I.F.E
As some of you already know, it is hard for me to put into words how I feel about L.I.F.E. I love the work that I am doing. I always feel completely exhausted afterwards yet at the same time like I'm not giving enough. L.I.F.E. was founded by a lady named Liliana something like 8 years ago. The organization is run by overworked volunteer interns. It's one of those places where there is ALWAYS more to do than there are people or energy to do it. Thus, on my first day in the office, I had an "interview" which turned into an instant promotion. Ha! I came in with hopes to volunteer and left with a title as a "Coordinator" and projects and lesson plans to complete before the next morning. So, I guess you could say that I dove in head-first. L.I.F.E. offers various programs to different comedores (soup kitchens) in one neighborhood called "Ciudad Oculta." The neighborhood is a trash-filled dump with stray, rabid dogs, demolished homes with dirt floors and cockroach mattresses and the most wonderful children I have ever met. The programs vary depending on the day--- but I have 4 main programs.
1=School Support which involves individual or group tutoring in any subject depending on how many kids come and what they want to do. I tried teaaching long division in Spanish yesterday-- ouchies! We have done everything from make oragami, color, learn English weather phrases and have math tournaments!
2= Birthday Parties are a real birthday party every Wednesday afternoon. Every Wednesday morning I make 4 birthday cakes-- each birthday cake is 3 layers with creme, dulce de leche (an Argentine sweet that is like milky caramel) and vanilla cake-- topped with a thick sugary vanilla frosting like you'd see on a wedding cake. The cakes are extravagantly decorated -- but then completely mutilated by hungry children. It's quite the sight! Basically the birthday party is a chaotic flurry of games, high energy and stuff-your-face-with-cake- time. It's awesome. And exhausting.
3=Theatre. We are putting on a production of the Alchemist. The kids love it. One day was devoted to telling the story, another to assigning parts and right now we are in the middle of making costumes. The gypsies have brightly colored cloth, the soldiers have cardboard and tin-foil swords, the shepard has a cane and head-cloth. This activity was the one I had the most doubt about-- but the one that has been most rewarding and most fun.
4= Voleibol. I play volleyball with some teenage boys. As I said before, volleyball has been great in getting me new friends. These teenage boys play every afternoon outside of a demolished building. They have an old, old ball but and a really ratty net-- but the game and the players is where the bonding happens. Since I've been playing with them, we've organized a tournament in which moms and dads and brothers and sisters from this community have come to participate! I'm the only volunteer that does voleibol, so I have formed an extra special bond and love for this activity and these people.
Caca: A story
Warning: This story is not appropriate for all audiences. Reader discretion is advised. Don't say I didn't warn you...
A few mornings ago I wanted to go for a run. (This type of thing doesn't happen very often, so I
decided to go with the urge.) Its nearly impossible to run on the busy city streets, so I have to walk about 45 minutes to my "happy place," the ecological reserve. Anyway, I left my residencia with a slight need to poop. I live on the 6th floor (and because I am opposed to the creepy elevator here), I decided NOT to go back in to do my business. I thought that I could hold it for the 45 minute walk to the reserve where they have public porta-potties. And so the story goes.
As I was walking, the need to poop became stronger and stronger! It was becoming unbearable. Uncontrollable. I'm not sure everyone has experienced this type of need. It's the kind when you begin to sweat and can not think of anything else. The worst possible scenario plays over and over in your head. I had to begin to run. I ran, which was more of a painful hobble, a miserable 10 minutes until I arrived at the entrace to the Ecological Reserve, the place with the porta-potties. It was closed. Ahhh que suerte.
The thing with Buenos Aires is that there are ALWAYS people EVERYWHERE. There's never a chance to steal a second behind a tree. I was becoming frantic and started accepting the fact that he worst possible scenario was going to happen: I was going to go in my pants. They call poop "caca" here. It makes it sound even worse: "Hago caca en mis pantalones." Story is not over yet. I did not caca in my pants.
Across the street I saw a construction site that had a porta-potty! The site, however, was barred by a tall fence. This mere obstacle did not stop me. The fence wasn't very durable, but was very high. So I kind of launched my body at the fence and by some power, made it over the fence. Sidenote: I kind of broke the fence in the process. At that point, it did not matter. I was like homeward bound or something. I sprinted to the bathroom and made it! Success!!!
I came out of the porta-potty feeling like a new woman! BUT... there were 2 police officers standing outside the porta-potty with their hands on their hips and very serious faces looking directly at me! They started rambling in fast Spanish; I understood nothing. I just kind of looked at them blankly and they kept talking. They were telling me that I owed a fine for the "destruction of property" (when I broke the fence on my way over) and "trespassing." I couldn't help but explain WHY I needed to poop. The officers laughed at me in pity and let me go. Free of charge, full of humiliation.
Quirky observations
-The traffic lights go from red to yellow to green and back to red.
-A fohawk/ mullet hair style is common among guys here. Uggh
-Sugar is put on popcorn, not salt
-There is tons of PDA (public displays of affection)
-Porn is everywhere
-Boys have their noses pierced
-Seems like everyone smokes and has tattos
-Absolutely no traffic laws-- if there are 3 lanes on a road, there are at least 5 cars across
-If you honk at a toll booth long enough, the toll booth worker will get annoyed and let you pass for free
-There are police everywhere, even at McDonalds
-The cashier people check your money in the light to make sure it is valid -- even if it is only a 2 peso bill
-Pedestrians do NOT have the right of way
-You kiss someone on the cheek everytime you say hello or goodbye
-If you flick your hand from your chin (the American gesture for F*** you)-- it means "I don't know here."
-If you bang your elbow on the table, it means that the person you are with is a cheap bastard.
Wow, so that's a general overview of the last month. My level of happiness has risen incredibly since my last post. I apologize for worrying anyone- and I apologize that it has taken me so long to write! As far as "Satisfaction with my life right now"-- on a scale of 20, I'm at about 17.1. The remaining 2.9 is because I miss you all!
As always, I would love to hear from you! Send stories, send me a number indicating YOUR level of satisfaction with your life right now, tell me about your mom... anything.
So much love to you,
Michaela
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
First day-- up, down, up, down
I can honestly say that my first day in Argentina ranks fairly high on the list of worst days EVER! Luckily, each day has been getting better. It has been a flurry of ups and downs-- each down has always been closely followed by an even better up!
While I was waiting in line for my bags at the airport, I saw another guy who looked like college student: papers coming out of his pockets, backpacking pack and also alone! We drifted together and began talking. His name is Emmett and he is a junior at Georgetown, also studying for a semester in Buenos Aires. After waiting in a 2 hour line to exchange money, the teller told me that my travelers checks could not be exchanged. BAH! As Emmett and I were going to part for our separate taxis, he said, *Well Michaela, you are the only person I know in this entire continent. We should exchange email addresses just in case we both have internet access and need a friend.* Smart man. I got a taxi and had an AMAZING driver (apart from his WILD driving). His name is Alejandro and he has a 13 year old daughter named Michaela! He suggested a few places to see and let me ask him a bunch of questions. He dropped me off right in front of my residencia, Callao (caJow) 86. The place is smack dab in the middle of downtown, one block from El Congreso. I opened the taxi door and almost had it taken off by zooming traffic. Ha! Small town girl meets big city.
From the entrance of the residencia, I was escorted onto the elevator and into a bunch of different empty rooms where I was told to wait for different people. The elevator was 1920s style with 2 bending metal doors. There is no stopping button on the elevator, you just have to open the door when you think you have reached your floor. If you are not close to the floor, you either have to try again or jump! Ahh! Various people speaking very fast Spanish came in and out of the rooms where I was waiting and put papers in front of me and told me I owed various amounts of money. Without pesos, this process was dificil. I wandered into different lounge-type rooms where various people were hanging out and said, *Hola, me llamo Michaela.* Each time, no one moved or acknowledged my presence. Humbling. Then, another person escorted me to my room, which is in a kitchen! The residencia has more people than rooms, so the kitchen is where I live. The escort set my stuff in the kitchen and then another person escorted me outside and to the GIC office. I tried to talk to each of the escorts, but it all just sounded like, *sdkfjhpoerwjknlfsd!*
At the office, I was told to wait in another room for another person. I waited for a good 2 hours before a lady came in and said that she was not expecting me for another couple of hours. She said that she needed to eat lunch and she would meet with me in a couple of hours. Ahh. Scared, lonely, nervous, tired, and hungry. And then Hans came in. Hans is an interesting fellow: He is from the south Bronx, is super tall, has a fohawk and wore bright orange shoes and matching shirt. He is 39 and we spent the next couple of hours talking. Hans was my savior. Hans was sick of NYC and came to Buenos Aires to start over. He is hoping to get his TEFL license. The lady came back from lunch and threw a few maps at us, mocked our Spanish and deferred all of our questions, wiping away my last drops of dignity and self confidence. Hans and I endured together: he justified all my feelings of confusion, anger and loneliness. Then, we made fools of ourselves when ordering our first empanadas at a restaurant across the street.
Hans left and I went back to the office to get directions to my residencia. The lady told me to wait in a room. Another saving angel came my way-- Andrew O.Donnell, a boy I was friends with in high school. We were both surprised to see the other-- I was estatic and cried because I was so happy! We exchanged cell phone numbers and he has been inviting me to do a lot with him and the friends that he has made! What a wonderful person to meet at that moment.
Later that night ws the February Welcome Party for all volunteers with GIC. The meeting place was a bar, so I went with some of the girls on my floor in a taxi. We got there and instead of any kind of introduction or welcome or community-building activities (how I miss camp!)-- they put pitchers of beer on the table and said, *Disfruta, gratis!* Thankfully, Hans and Andrew were there and they were very nice company to have. As the night went on, I became more zombie like -- no sleep and a new city will do that to ya! I had no idea how to get a taxi or where I lived--other than in a kitchen-- so I could not go home. I learned quickly that no one in Argentina goes home before 5am, so that was when I went home on my first night in Argentina. What a day.
While I was waiting in line for my bags at the airport, I saw another guy who looked like college student: papers coming out of his pockets, backpacking pack and also alone! We drifted together and began talking. His name is Emmett and he is a junior at Georgetown, also studying for a semester in Buenos Aires. After waiting in a 2 hour line to exchange money, the teller told me that my travelers checks could not be exchanged. BAH! As Emmett and I were going to part for our separate taxis, he said, *Well Michaela, you are the only person I know in this entire continent. We should exchange email addresses just in case we both have internet access and need a friend.* Smart man. I got a taxi and had an AMAZING driver (apart from his WILD driving). His name is Alejandro and he has a 13 year old daughter named Michaela! He suggested a few places to see and let me ask him a bunch of questions. He dropped me off right in front of my residencia, Callao (caJow) 86. The place is smack dab in the middle of downtown, one block from El Congreso. I opened the taxi door and almost had it taken off by zooming traffic. Ha! Small town girl meets big city.
From the entrance of the residencia, I was escorted onto the elevator and into a bunch of different empty rooms where I was told to wait for different people. The elevator was 1920s style with 2 bending metal doors. There is no stopping button on the elevator, you just have to open the door when you think you have reached your floor. If you are not close to the floor, you either have to try again or jump! Ahh! Various people speaking very fast Spanish came in and out of the rooms where I was waiting and put papers in front of me and told me I owed various amounts of money. Without pesos, this process was dificil. I wandered into different lounge-type rooms where various people were hanging out and said, *Hola, me llamo Michaela.* Each time, no one moved or acknowledged my presence. Humbling. Then, another person escorted me to my room, which is in a kitchen! The residencia has more people than rooms, so the kitchen is where I live. The escort set my stuff in the kitchen and then another person escorted me outside and to the GIC office. I tried to talk to each of the escorts, but it all just sounded like, *sdkfjhpoerwjknlfsd!*
At the office, I was told to wait in another room for another person. I waited for a good 2 hours before a lady came in and said that she was not expecting me for another couple of hours. She said that she needed to eat lunch and she would meet with me in a couple of hours. Ahh. Scared, lonely, nervous, tired, and hungry. And then Hans came in. Hans is an interesting fellow: He is from the south Bronx, is super tall, has a fohawk and wore bright orange shoes and matching shirt. He is 39 and we spent the next couple of hours talking. Hans was my savior. Hans was sick of NYC and came to Buenos Aires to start over. He is hoping to get his TEFL license. The lady came back from lunch and threw a few maps at us, mocked our Spanish and deferred all of our questions, wiping away my last drops of dignity and self confidence. Hans and I endured together: he justified all my feelings of confusion, anger and loneliness. Then, we made fools of ourselves when ordering our first empanadas at a restaurant across the street.
Hans left and I went back to the office to get directions to my residencia. The lady told me to wait in a room. Another saving angel came my way-- Andrew O.Donnell, a boy I was friends with in high school. We were both surprised to see the other-- I was estatic and cried because I was so happy! We exchanged cell phone numbers and he has been inviting me to do a lot with him and the friends that he has made! What a wonderful person to meet at that moment.
Later that night ws the February Welcome Party for all volunteers with GIC. The meeting place was a bar, so I went with some of the girls on my floor in a taxi. We got there and instead of any kind of introduction or welcome or community-building activities (how I miss camp!)-- they put pitchers of beer on the table and said, *Disfruta, gratis!* Thankfully, Hans and Andrew were there and they were very nice company to have. As the night went on, I became more zombie like -- no sleep and a new city will do that to ya! I had no idea how to get a taxi or where I lived--other than in a kitchen-- so I could not go home. I learned quickly that no one in Argentina goes home before 5am, so that was when I went home on my first night in Argentina. What a day.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Let the adventures begin!
Airport:
I said goodbye to Mom, wiped the tears from my cheek, took a deep breath and entered one of the scariest places in my mind: the airport. I managed to get my ticket and walk through security, but just as my bag was appearing out of the machine, the lady in the uniform yelled, ¨BAG CHECK!¨Shoot! They´ll probably confinscate the tobacco that Dad gave me and send me to prison or something. The guy searched my backpack and pulled out my key lime pie yogurt. I couldn´t help but make a sad face at the man. ¨Not my key lime pie yogurt!¨At first he was very serious, ¨Maám, this isn´t allowed past security.¨But, I think my relentless puppy-dog eyes cracked him because he said, Ïf you want, I could escort you to a room and you could eat your key lime pie yogurt and then come back through security.¨Ha! I should probably not make it a practice to follow random guys into ¨special rooms¨but this time my key lime pie yogurt was well worth it! After passing through security for the second time, I still had 2 hours to kill before my plane began boarding. I took a walking tour-de-airport. Once I got myself around, it no longer seemed as large and intimidating as I had always pictured.
We finally boarded Flight 2965 to Houston. I got seat 29A. No joke. Right as I stepped onto the plane, the flight attendent, who reminds me of David DeBlock, said into the microphone, ¨Welcome aboard Flight 2965 with non-stop service to Ancorage, Alaska. Please take your seats, we will depart shortly.¨ My heart definitely stopped and all the sweat-producing glands in my body were on overdrive. I turned around in terror, shock and desperation. The flight attendent was looking directly at me and said, ¨Gotcha!¨ Funny now, not so funny then. It didn´t seem like the rest of the plane cared. But, I think the flight attendent felt badly for making me FLIP OUT and he was super nice to me for the rest of the flight. We got a snack at the beginning of the flight and everytime he´d walk down the aisle, he´d drop a package of fruit snacks on my tray!
The same flight attendent, with humor like Dad´s, would come on the microphone and say things like, ¨Current weather in Houston is 20 degrees.¨ He´d pause and wait for his desired audience reaction (which was just me sticking my head into the aisle with a majorly confused look on my face). Then, he´d say, ¨20 degrees Celcius that is!¨ At the end of the flight, he announced that he´d be making one last pass with a trash bag so if we could all deposit anything we didn´t want, such as garbage, newspapers, cash, jewelry, children or wives, he´d greatly appreciate it! He was a big jokester and I appreciated him.
My second flight from Houston to Buenos Aires was in a HUGE plane. There were three different rows across with 3 seats in each. I sat in the middle of the middle row. On my left was Damion, a 9th grade boy from Alabama who was spending a month at an elite soccer camp in Buenos Aires. He was small and cute and really nervous. So, we talked about the TV show ¨House¨and watched it together when it came on and that really calmed the both of us down! The girl on my right was a senior at the University of Iowa, originally from Orono, MN! She knows Lizzy and Kendra-- small world! Her name is Natalie and she is a Spanish major studying abroad for the spring semester.
At about 11pm, the lights went out in the plane. I tossed and turned but didn´t get any sleep. Then, at about 3am, the older guy that was diagonally in front of me went into a cardiac arrest! There was a frantic announcement: Ïf there are any medical professionals-- doctors, nurses, EMTS, please come to row 28!¨I knew if Catalina and Amy Deeg were there, that they could save the day! Luckily, about 10 people came over. One of them must have been a cardiac arrest specialist (cardiologist?) because he became alpha male and took over. He kind of looked like Matthew McConagey in the Wedding Planner, but instead of saving J. Lo´s shoe, he saved this sweet, old man. And, yes, he saved him. For the rest of the trip, the older man had all sorts of tubes hooked to him, and an oxygen tank next to him. Although tragic at first, this incidence turned into a beautiful thing.
We landed safe and sound in Buenos Aires.
(The computer lab is closing now, so I´ll have to write more later!)
I said goodbye to Mom, wiped the tears from my cheek, took a deep breath and entered one of the scariest places in my mind: the airport. I managed to get my ticket and walk through security, but just as my bag was appearing out of the machine, the lady in the uniform yelled, ¨BAG CHECK!¨Shoot! They´ll probably confinscate the tobacco that Dad gave me and send me to prison or something. The guy searched my backpack and pulled out my key lime pie yogurt. I couldn´t help but make a sad face at the man. ¨Not my key lime pie yogurt!¨At first he was very serious, ¨Maám, this isn´t allowed past security.¨But, I think my relentless puppy-dog eyes cracked him because he said, Ïf you want, I could escort you to a room and you could eat your key lime pie yogurt and then come back through security.¨Ha! I should probably not make it a practice to follow random guys into ¨special rooms¨but this time my key lime pie yogurt was well worth it! After passing through security for the second time, I still had 2 hours to kill before my plane began boarding. I took a walking tour-de-airport. Once I got myself around, it no longer seemed as large and intimidating as I had always pictured.
We finally boarded Flight 2965 to Houston. I got seat 29A. No joke. Right as I stepped onto the plane, the flight attendent, who reminds me of David DeBlock, said into the microphone, ¨Welcome aboard Flight 2965 with non-stop service to Ancorage, Alaska. Please take your seats, we will depart shortly.¨ My heart definitely stopped and all the sweat-producing glands in my body were on overdrive. I turned around in terror, shock and desperation. The flight attendent was looking directly at me and said, ¨Gotcha!¨ Funny now, not so funny then. It didn´t seem like the rest of the plane cared. But, I think the flight attendent felt badly for making me FLIP OUT and he was super nice to me for the rest of the flight. We got a snack at the beginning of the flight and everytime he´d walk down the aisle, he´d drop a package of fruit snacks on my tray!
The same flight attendent, with humor like Dad´s, would come on the microphone and say things like, ¨Current weather in Houston is 20 degrees.¨ He´d pause and wait for his desired audience reaction (which was just me sticking my head into the aisle with a majorly confused look on my face). Then, he´d say, ¨20 degrees Celcius that is!¨ At the end of the flight, he announced that he´d be making one last pass with a trash bag so if we could all deposit anything we didn´t want, such as garbage, newspapers, cash, jewelry, children or wives, he´d greatly appreciate it! He was a big jokester and I appreciated him.
My second flight from Houston to Buenos Aires was in a HUGE plane. There were three different rows across with 3 seats in each. I sat in the middle of the middle row. On my left was Damion, a 9th grade boy from Alabama who was spending a month at an elite soccer camp in Buenos Aires. He was small and cute and really nervous. So, we talked about the TV show ¨House¨and watched it together when it came on and that really calmed the both of us down! The girl on my right was a senior at the University of Iowa, originally from Orono, MN! She knows Lizzy and Kendra-- small world! Her name is Natalie and she is a Spanish major studying abroad for the spring semester.
At about 11pm, the lights went out in the plane. I tossed and turned but didn´t get any sleep. Then, at about 3am, the older guy that was diagonally in front of me went into a cardiac arrest! There was a frantic announcement: Ïf there are any medical professionals-- doctors, nurses, EMTS, please come to row 28!¨I knew if Catalina and Amy Deeg were there, that they could save the day! Luckily, about 10 people came over. One of them must have been a cardiac arrest specialist (cardiologist?) because he became alpha male and took over. He kind of looked like Matthew McConagey in the Wedding Planner, but instead of saving J. Lo´s shoe, he saved this sweet, old man. And, yes, he saved him. For the rest of the trip, the older man had all sorts of tubes hooked to him, and an oxygen tank next to him. Although tragic at first, this incidence turned into a beautiful thing.
We landed safe and sound in Buenos Aires.
(The computer lab is closing now, so I´ll have to write more later!)
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Overview
Family, Friends--
Hi!! Thanks for visiting my blog! I'm heading off to Argentina on Feb. 5th and will be independently volunteering with a non-profit organization called L.I.F.E. until March 1st. L.I.F.E. stands for Luchemos para una Infancia Feliz y Esperanza (We strive for a childhood of happiness and hope.) Here's the website-- http://www.lifeargentina.org/-- if you're interested in taking a look!
On March 1st, I will begin my study abroad program! There are 3 other St. Olaf students and an unknown number of students from around the U.S. who are all doing this study abroad program through the organization, I.E.S. I will live with a host family and take classes at the Universidad de Buenos Aires! The program ends on the 27th of June.
I will update the blog as often as I can-- and hope to hear from all of you!
Peace, Michaela
Hi!! Thanks for visiting my blog! I'm heading off to Argentina on Feb. 5th and will be independently volunteering with a non-profit organization called L.I.F.E. until March 1st. L.I.F.E. stands for Luchemos para una Infancia Feliz y Esperanza (We strive for a childhood of happiness and hope.) Here's the website-- http://www.lifeargentina.org/-- if you're interested in taking a look!
On March 1st, I will begin my study abroad program! There are 3 other St. Olaf students and an unknown number of students from around the U.S. who are all doing this study abroad program through the organization, I.E.S. I will live with a host family and take classes at the Universidad de Buenos Aires! The program ends on the 27th of June.
I will update the blog as often as I can-- and hope to hear from all of you!
Peace, Michaela
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