August 23, 2010 Arrival!

Arrived in Buenos Aires shortly before 1 pm today… that’s noon EST. I had run into a couple NYU students when boarding at JFK (whose names I now know to be Sarah and Ruth), but I had plenty of time to talk to people while we waited for the Academic Center shuttle to arrive. I met Alexis, Sally (who spent almost the entire wait journaling in her own little corner), Alex (the most well traveled college student I think I’ve ever met – Paris, Greece, Italy – you name it, she’s been there), Magen, and both Cassies. Sat next to Sarah on the forty minute bus ride to the Academic Center. She’s also doing a homestay. 

The bus/shuttle from the airport!

View from the bus window as we approached the city.

Is there any developed country in the world without tollbooths?

So many streets look like this one.

I think almost every building has balconies. They're not all this beautiful, but a whole lot of them are. And almost all the balconies have various plants and flowers nestled behind the railings and ornate ironwork.

When I realized that buildings like this are everywhere, I attributed it to the many economic crises suffered by the country over the past hundred years. Argentina was extremely wealthy in the 1900s. I imagine many of its citizens appreciated a high quality of life, complete with these lavish, European homes. Argentina's economic highs have generally been pretty darn high, but when the dip comes, the damage is brutal. Upper middle class citizens lose their homes, real estate prices plummet. A gorgeous, beautifully maintained colonial home is divided into smaller and smaller apartments atop una tienda de sanitarios, a toilet store. But, on the bright side, the economy always improves with enough time, real estate prices rise, and these historical buildings are restored and taken care of once again. 

El Abasto! In the nineteenth century, this area was the site of one of Buenos Aires's largest marketplaces. In modern times, it's a truly massive shopping mall.

Above is another view of one of the entrances to el Abasto and the pretty building across the street from it. (Pardon the reflection on the glass of the bus window.) :)

Later, once we reached our destination and scarfed down some delicious, unknown foods,

[There were really, really yummy dinner pastries filled with gray and brown… something… After just one minute standing in front of the buffet tables, I learned to trust the excited recommendations of the servers in response to my fumbled “Yo soy… vegetariana” and not question the actually identity of the dishes’ components. You hope it’s going to taste good and it usually does. When it doesn’t, you choke it down and eat more of the thing you did like as a reward. In this case, the reward for the eggplant sandwich was bollos. “Bollo” translates directly to “bun,”  but it was really only a bun in texture. Picture a dumpling, hollow – except for the filling – and small, but formed with a thin layer of dough that tastes a lot like the rolls they serve at Cracker Barrel, heavy and buttery. Into this, they placed various mixtures of veggies like eggplant and onions. The onion (“¡oñión!”) one was marked with tiny peppercorn flakes embedded in its surface, while others had poppy or sesame seeds.]

Megan remarked to Sarah and me that the homestay students were like puppies in a pound, waiting for someone to come and claim us. We found that really amusing, especially as the “moms” started arriving and one homestay after another was pulled from the group to meet them as the uncalled ones looked on, both disappointed and relieved that their turn hadn’t come yet. Before many of the homestay mothers had arrived, we were shifted upstairs to check in and receive our NYU Buneos Aires backpacks, complete with notebook and student handbook, orientation packet, and ambulance card.

[Ambulance services are privatized in Buenos Aires. You must pay for the service and have an ambulance card available if you want to guarantee a speedy trip to the hospital. This same service also provides at-home doctor’s visits should you be too sick to leave the house or simply prefer that the doctor come to you (who wouldn’t?!). Oh, and also, randomly, our dental insurance is through this same company. All other health issues are covered through HTH, an international health insurance program provided by NYU at no extra charge as long as I maintain some form of domestic health insurance.]

By the way, the Academic Center is gorgeous. The pictures below really don’t do it justice. Here you see us all eating in the main commons area. It’s very Harry Potter, probably because the building used to be the Angolan Embassy or something like that (I know the country started with an “a”). Everything’s in dark, mahogany-like wood, there are stained glass windows, and little gold bars hold the red carpeting against the main stairway at the base of every step.

Gryffindor common room... sorta! ^.^

Those big doors there lead to the entrance hall where the security desk is. Also, because that second level there isn't a complete floor, they refer to it as part of the first floor, just to confuse us. The floor above is then the second floor.

I can't get over even how pretty the windows are.

The luggage jungle. :)

After checking in and paying our housing bill,

[This took a while because I was one of the last in line and also one of the few who actually followed directions and had the full  $2,800 in cash on me. Everyone else had to explain that they didn’t have the cash on them and arrange to somehow withdraw it from an ATM over the next few days. This is más difícil because ATMs only allow a person to withdraw 700 to 1000 Argentine pesos at once – that’s a maximum of $250 USD. I’ve heard that with SOME of them, you can repeat this maximum withdrawal up to three times daily, with a minimum wait of 30 minutes between each transaction. For every one of them, though, you’re also charged an ATM fee AND if you’re silly enough to come down here without opening an account with a U.S. credit union like Citadel – rather than a bank like Wells Fargo or Chase – you’re also charged a currency conversion fee of between 0.5% and 3.0% of the amount you remove. Thank you, Citadel!]

we went back downstairs. My homestay mother, Rosario, was waiting. “¿Como estás?” she asked after giving me a half hug and kiss on the cheek. “¡Muy bien!” I answered with a big smile. She looked pleased, turned to the homestay coordinator, Alejandra, and said “Muy bien, ella dice,” as if to affirm that I had said the right thing. I located my luggage in the luggage jungle that had formed in the room’s free space, and Alejandra and Rosario chatted like old friends.  It wasn’t until after we were pulling my suitcases down the street outside the building that it occurred to me that they probably weren’t old friends, in spite of the warm hug and kiss they shared before we left. People are just really friendly here.

We took a cab. I don’t really remember what route we used (I was busy staring up at the buildings, the balconies overflowing with plants, the architecture… and of course, giving the occasional nervous glance at the traffic situation. I can’t decide who are more crazy, the pedestrians or the drivers. I remembered that Buenos Aires has the highest daily rate of deaths by traffic accident in the entire world.)

Rosario is very, very nice. She’s no Señora Feldman but only because she’s just very no-nonsense. We made stunted conversation on the car ride to her home. She assured me that I would improve my Spanish very quickly over the next few months.

Her home is a lot like her personality, direct and open but warm. It’s actually kind of Spartan. Very minimalist, but in a good way. A picture tour will come soon. J That will be easier than trying to explain. My room has exactly two piece of furniture in it: one bed and one night stand, both wood and white-washed to match. The bed has a pretty white cover on it and the curtains are white as well. There are hardwood floors (as there are in the whole house) and two closets, one with both hanging space and drawers. We moved in a small table from the kitchen (which would normally hold the phone and provide a very little bit of additional counter space) and a chair from the dining room so that I would have a desk.

Oh, and there’s a doorman. And a lobby when you first walk into the building. It’s entirely glass on the front wall, the one facing the street, and there are hardwood floors and leather chairs there. And an old fashioned, closet-sized, wooden elevator to the second floor. You have to pull shut both the inner and outer doors before hitting buttons, and it doesn’t make any kind of noise when you reach your floor. You know you’re there when it stops. And and and the keys to the apartment are so cool!! They’re all old-fashioned, like the elevator! She actually forgot hers at her office. ( I still have no idea where she works or what she does.) We left all my luggage up by the door, and walked several blocks away to an itty-bitty tool store. One of the guys who works there followed us back, removed the doorknob, and unlocked the door for us. I kept staring at the keyhole, wondering how a modern key could fit it, until I realized that a modern key didn’t need to fit because we had awesome, matching, old-fashioned ones.

It’s just her and me here. I know she has a grandson; she showed me his picture, and he is sooooo cute. Muy guapo. Going to be such a lady killer. You can tell already even though he’s probably just six. I don’t much else about her family yet, though.

Mi español es muy malo. Rosario doesn’t speak much English (although I think she must understand more) and had to call her friend, María, three times so that she could provide a translation for important information, like the fact that she was leaving for five minutes to run to the store before dinner, which, by the way, will be served at 8:30 every night.  

[That’s actually early for an Argentine dinner. If you’re hungry at seven, you’re completely out of luck. Now, if it’s midnight you’re talking about, pretty much any restaurant in the city would be happy to serve you.]

Dinner was an AWESOME stir fry. Arroz, zapallo y zanahoria cortados en dados y un poco berenjena con salsa de soja. Rice, diced pumpkin and carrots, and a little bit of eggplant with soy sauce. (What is it with eggplant in this country?) It was soooooo good. I <3 zapallo.

I asked if the dish was normal in Argentina, but apparently it’s not. Oh well. Still muy delicioso.

We ate dinner at the dining room table with a small glass pitcher of water between us that Rosario kept using to refill my glass for me. Our conversation was still stunted but I managed to explain that mi madre dice que es difícil cocinar para mí – my mother says that it’s hard to cook for me. Rosario is apparently one of the mothers NYU goes to when it sends a vegetarian down here. She doesn’t mind cooking vegetarian meals, and has an endless collection of recipes.

Our dinner conversation was aided by a large, Spanish-English dictionary that she hauled out of a closet and placed between us. I never would have identified the pumpkin if she hadn’t looked it up for me under its Spanish name.

And now… I’m typing this, unpacking… getting a feel for the fact that I’m in a completely different hemisphere and I have yet to acquire any local currency or buy shampoo, conditioner, or a power adapter for my computer.

Much love,

Abbie