Big Lights, Sirens, and Dog Shit

Being City-fied:
It has been over a week since I arrived in BA(Buenos Aires). And so far it has been an overwhelming wirlwind.
I arrived to an amazing apartment on Laprida and Santa Fe. I have my own large room, with a balcony, lots of sunlight, and four other roommates in a doorman building. My roommates - not a single one from Argentina; a Peruvian, an Ecuadorian, a Chilean, and a Colombian - are all very sweet, but rarely ever home. So the large apt tends to be empty most of the time, with everyone coming and going at their own pace. Either way, its beautiful and definitely worth the price tag in dollars.
My school is only about fifteen minutes away, walking distance, and all through the very chic neighborhood of Recoleta. Speaking of my school, which is housed in ex president, Carlos Peligrini's old house, I completed my first week.
There were of course, a few bumps in the road, with a small class of six and various girls dropping out on the first day - but for the most part I enjoy it. Long days - from 10am until around 5. And so far, the course has been more or less on tab with being intensive. But they did warn us and most of the work is done during the day, so it is not like I get home from eight hours of class and still have loads more to work on. This first week has been a mixture of classes ranging from Lesson Planning, to writing workshops, to Gaelic classes, to grammar. But it is mostly very practical and easily applicable. So while I get to the end of the day, a bit unfocused and antsy, I am learning all the practicalities of teaching an English course. Some of it can be a bit redundant and useless - since when I really get to teaching a class or private tutoring, all the stuff I learn will actually have to ben thrown out the window. Nevertheless, it is a good start and definitely helps give people a foundation to teach. And next week will be less of actually sitting in classes and more of proactively planning and teaching - so it can only improve.
Plus I have developed quite a routine, which I really like. School, a maté, errands, the gym, and I usually end with a Lakers game - since they are in the finals. I hope you are all watching and supporting. Fisher is my hero. And we are definitely going to win the series - no doubt. Yeah! Thank god, they pass the games here on ESPN or I would feel very lost....
So thats about it for now... Manuel has come up the two weekends I have been here so far and we're both getting to know the city.. And the restaurants and food are amazing here. I found a great organic restaurant and deli down the street. And today we went to the California Burrito Co - which is a Chipotle remake in Buenos Aires - so I got my fix of spicy Mexican food. (By the way, this spot was created by three guys who graduated from my high school, Calabasas High) The public transport - like subway is all pretty accessible and easily manueverable. -- Did I just make that word up? oops. The people are terribly mean in the city - but in that good way, where you know you are in a big city and the porteños (people from Buenos Aires) just dont want to waste their time with tourists.. :) I found Philadelphia Cream Cheese in the super markets and there is an awesome antique fair on sundays in San Telmo. And the sidewalks are covered in peoples' dogs' shit, since they seem to be too lazy to bend over. The sirens are loud and constantly buzzing and I can hear them from my window, even though I am on the 13th floor. Everything is open late. And anything you might want to do or have an interest in, you will find here. Aaaah, the city.........
And the days have been lovely so far. Cold and brisk with lots of sun. A perfect fall. And I love being in cold weather in big cities - it almost reminds of NYC...
I guess I just can't get enough of those big lights, sirens, and dog shit....



post script: I recently talked about how Ryan would be landing in LAX, but I guess I mixed up the months. He actually will be arriving July 3rd. So hes still in Sudamerica. Not to worry though, he will be arriving in Los Angeles shortly. ;)

Since Then

I am off to Buenos Aires tomorrow and theres no food in the apartment.
Stangely at the moment I have finally got my bearings here in Rosario; I am going to leave for a month. I know where to buy the bread I like, and where to buy the good deli meat. I know the guy at the kiosco counter in the center who always asks me about my boyfriend when I buy bus cards. I have a hostel where I know all the staff and play games of ping pong in the back against all the new gringos to town. I know the store where I like to look at the ridiculously expensive Argentenian clothes that isnt tacky. I have a salon where I know the girls and they ask me weekly about my outings with Manuel and what its like to live with him. My weekends have been surprisingly busy over the past month. I know where to buy the organic beer I like. I know the route I take to get to the park to run and that it takes me exactly fifteen minutes each way walking. I know when I take the bus from my neighborhood, it will take me about twenty minutes to get to the center; on the 122 or 143. And I know all the routes and stops they make along the way. I know nothing is open between the hours of 3:30 until 5:30 and theres only one spot in the neighborhood open on Sundays. I know where I like to go out at night. I know where I can play pool or bowling and eat a good pizza. And my apartment feels more like home every day....
And still, tomorrow I will move into an apartment for about five weeks in Recoleta in Buenos Aires and I will have to do this whole thing over again there. If you dont know already, I am doing a TEFL course in BA for four weeks. By the end of the intensive four weeks, I will be certified to teach English and then have access to all the alumni association and can supposedly get a job wherever I want. So the program starts June 8th and the school is right in the area where I will be living. Not exactly sure who I will be living with yet, three other girls, but since I found the apartment on Craigslist from another Cali girl, I am not that worried. There are way too many of us Cali people in BA...
So I am hoping the next month is good... I am actually excited to have classes and a schedule and structure. Man, I miss school. So it should be interesting and busy and new - which is just the way I like it. Thats it for now, news wise and all.
Oh, I will add that Ryan - my travel bud from months back - will be landing in LAX on wednesday and heading back the real world in Los Angeles. Im sure hell be fine, since hes got a lot to fall back on after ending the trip. :) Good luck Ry. Who would have thought that I would be the one to outlast him - I always thought it would be the other way around. Oh well. Maybe I will be back in the states for Thanksgiving or something.... :)
Bueno, tengo que armar mi mochilla y pensar bien lo que voy a llevar. Espero que tengo bastante lugar. no pasa nada. Y ademas, nada. Vamos a Capital.

A vacation from a vacation from a vacation from a vacation from a vacation..........

Rewind.

seven full days I worked at Excalibur restaurant of the four star hostel of the Holiday Inn. Ryan, long lost traveling buddy, came to visit in Rosario. We hung out a bit, I showed him around, we ate some fish, I worked the days. On a Sunday, we left for Buenos Aires. We stayed in a posh area where his family lives, Palermo. We ate, walked around, talked a lot about existential crisis' we both had been having. And we saw Radiohead with Kraftwerk in a giant stadium. Think, thousands upon thousands of sweaty Argentinians and a few other sweaty Americans, pushing and moshing, and rubbing, and singing, and yelling, and stepping, and running, and swaying. awesome! highlights include songs High and Dry, Karma Police, and Sail to the Moon. Also, moments when the massive crowd would open and you could feel fresh air for a fleeting second, instead of smelling Body Odor from the entire sticky pit.
On a wednesday night, I came back to Rosario. It was the end of March. I quit my job the next morning.
Life seemed a bit boring with mere small activities, movies, running, food. The norm.
I got restless. I got an email from Ryan, the second week of of April. He was leaving Corrientes and heading to Iguazu to eventually cross the border into Brazil. I left Rosario. A twenty hour night bus got me to Iguazu on a saturday morning. ryan and I went to the spectacular waterfalls in Park Iguazu- deafening, enormous, mezmorizing, spectacular, dizzying.
Short hike, the next day to a lagoon in the park. then on Monday, we went and got visas at the consulate for Brazil. Tiny office that gets you a visa after two hours (US citizens must pay 130 USD to get into Brazil). Directly, we hopped on a bus to get through the border and into the bus terminal on the Brazilian side to get to Florianopolis, Brazil.
A twenty hour bus ride helped us arrive. Ryan asked to couchsurf there, but the host was full and suggested a friend of hers from the University - they are all film students. (Couchsurfing is a free website that helps put in contact people who are traveling and people who are locals of that specific city or town - either for accomodations, to meet for a drink or coffee, or just for suggestions about touring. check out the website: www.couchsurfing.com) Chico and Morgana picked us up at the bus station. I had not planned to couchsurf so planned to stay at a hostel. we went for great seafood by the beach Barra de Lagoa and I checked into a ritsy hostel with a bunch of Australians. That night we went to a bar, drank beer, and played pool with a bunch of Chico's friends - mostly cinema students in the beach town of Florianopolis.
Next day, amazing pumpkin and shrimp meal cooked by Morgana... I am still waiting for the recipe. Then beach day and birthday party at night with a bunch of great kids, good homecooked lasagne. Next day, more beach day, I checked out of hostel and crashed Chico and Morgana's pad. Next night, a fun themed graduation party of one of Chico's friends. ryan - karate kid, Chico - the red bandit, me -Tom Cruise from Risky Business. some photos: http://www.flickr.com/photos/runamokschuster/page12/
Next day - beach day and bus to Sao Paolo overnight.
Sao Paolo. we arrived at 5:30 am. Had some breakfast and Ryan left. I was going to couchsurf but hadnt heard back from my host, Dayane, yet. So I left my bags and spent the morning walking around Sao Paolo. great subway system. I got all over the city. went to a cool antique fair and a photography exhibit in the MASP. Then got my bags and met up with host Dayane. We went to the supermarket, got some food, relaxed and then went out for the night to Carniceria with some of her friends. I by chance met two Ashkenazi Jews who hung out for a bit....
Next day, i did some more touring. Got lost on the bus system for two hours, finally made it to giant and overwhelming Parque do Ibirapuera. All the museums inside were closed for the day. I headed back to Dayane's work and we headed home. We drove to her home town Jacarai for a friends' birthday party. met her friends and family, taught to make a caipirinha, ate churrasco - the brazilian style barbeque and some other great goodies, played foozball, played pool, and crashed. Woke up next morning for breakfast with the fam, then cleaning up, and lunch with the fam. LOTS OF EATING - but great food. drove the hour and half back to Sao Paolo - I packed. we went to amazing sushi. I got exceedingly full. totally worth it.
That night I got on a bus to Rio. Stayed with couchsurfer Renata in the downtown area of Lapa in Rio. awesome area. I went to two great exhibitions - one at the cultural center, or CCBB of two twins who normally do graffiti art. The show was called Vertigem and was by Os Gemeos. Google Image search them - amazing! and also a show in the Museum of Modern Art.
That night we saw a screening of some new independent Brazilian shorts. Then there was a Cachaza party. Next day, we took it easy (I took the subway to check out Copacabana- tons of people and high rise buildings - intense). at night, we played pool, the Brazilian version called mata mata (kill kill) and sang karaoke in a gay bar. Renata and I did a rendition of "like a prayer" by Madonna. watched a loong interview of some ex-winner of Brazilian Big Brother who is gay and headed home. Woke up the next morning - Renata took me to the famous tiled stairs by the artist Selaron. she had to get to work, so left. The artist ended up talking to me for an hour. Eventually I bought one of his pieces.
I got on a bus, to take a ferry to Nitoroi to go with a friend to one of the beaches, that are supposedly better than Copacabana and Ipanema. We went to a fish market to buy fresh fish to cook for dinner, went to the beach - it was far away so we only got an hour of sun, watched the sunset and headed back to Nitoroi.
Cooked dinner and relaxed. I headed back to Renata´s place. Showered and packed. Met some friends in a bar in an area called Botafogo that only played Brazilian music. danced a bit of samba.
headed back to apartment and got on early morning flight to Buenos Aires, then taxi to bus terminal, then bus for four hours to Rosario, then taxi back home. Late saturday night, I got back home.

Play.
I am home. :)

the 9-5

My feet hurt.
So after much hard work and bitching, I have finally and successfully, joined the work force of Rosario. I am employed, unofficially at the moment - I am in the process of getting my work visa, so then it will be more official - by Excalibur. The restaurant of the four-star hotel....drum roll......the Holiday Inn Rosario.
The job, so far, seems to include very long hours - 8 hours a day, very little days off - one to two days per week...I have 6 francos (days-off) for the entire month, and very little pay. I am in a third world country. (I forgot to mention though, I will have great medical coverage.) My salary will be 1400 pesos per month, not including tips - people don't really tip here, so I really don't have much expectations for that.
The people so far are pretty jovial and nice - the staff is huge, about 70 people, which is way more than they need. And I think the people are mostly jovial because it tells you in the intro-packet to always wear a smile and have cara-dura, which translates to without embarassment. I am supposed to work without ever being embarassed to ask anything or do anything. Supposedly.
But I am getting way ahead of myself, by complaining already. :) I like having a job and something to keep me busy outside the house. I now have people of my own which is a good thing. And I am going to try to get mostly night shifts, which are way busier and much more fun, so I wont have to wake up every morning at 6 or 7. I am a terrible morning person - especially when I have to put on a smile and charming personality. And so far, it has yet to bother me, that all the guests, upon discovering that I am a yankee, always ask what the hell I am doing in Rosario. I haven't really come up with a good answer to that one, but today will only be my third day of work.
And soon enough, after I get to the U.S. embassy in Buenos Aires, I will have a visa and can be in Argentina for a whole year, without problems. Otherwise, while the job has yet to give me time to write, I will get there eventually. Especially since I really only want to work nights. When I work days - it kills my whole day.
So yeah! I have a job and somewhat of a routine. And the whole interviewing process, was not actually in vain afterall! Is that supposed to be a relief?
Anyway, thats the news for now. I am using my few francos this next week, to head to Buenos Aires with Ryan to get my box out of customs, go to the US embassy and sort out my visa, and of course for the RADIOHEAD concert on Tuesday night. Radiohead. Radiohead!
Ryan is coming to Rosario for the weekend to visit, which should be interesting since I have not seen him since November.

"Bienvenidos al Holiday Inn, Rosario. Me Llamo Jenna. Como puedo ayudar?"Sonrisa.

In Vain

I had two interviews yesterday, which from what I can tell so far were in vain. Or maybe they were just good practice. Although they were both for waitressing positions and I am not sure the last time, that I wanted a job so badly. Pretty strange to think that after graduating New York University, I am currently crossing my fingers that I get a waitressing position. Maybe its ironic. But mostly I just feel like its a punishment. A punishment for not publishing anything, but really a punishment for not being able to finish anything I start - in terms of writing.

So oh well. Imagine: I show up in my best clothes at the Holiday Inn. A four star hotel in Rosario, Argentina. I spend a while chatting with Paulo, who is the interviewer. He asks me how I ended up in Rosario - I came for a visit and decided to stay. What I like most about Rosario - the river, the flag monument, and of course the museums. W here I am staying - I stay with my boyfriend in Tavlada. He asks me about my travels - I sum up as briefly as I my trip so far. He asks me what my parents do - a little off guard about why he want to know this, I tell him that my mother is a special ed teacher, and that my father is in promotional products - I explain here that all the pens, keychains, and tags for luggage that say the name brand Holiday Inn, are brought by my father from China to his factory in Los Angeles, and he prints the labels and sends them out to distributors. Oh, he exclaims, your father is an importer. Well, I say, not specifically. But he is the interviewer, so I let him think what he wants. He asks me what my boyfriend does and I explain that he is a historian, that he teaches at the university, and that he is an investigator for the state - bascially he has a grant from the state to finish his doctorate in argentinian history. Well, thats wonderful, Paulo comments. He then plunges into more questions about my personal life, which of course catch me off guard, and I smile an over-friendly smile to stall him as I think of a charming answer.

Evenutually, he seems pleased and asks me to wait while he gets his superior to interview me next since he has to continue with the other interviews. I stare at the wall for about 15 minutes or so and think about how fun it would be to work in the ritsy hotel and how it seems like I might get the job, since none of the other girls were asked to wait to talk to a superior nor did they spend so much time with the interviewer. Cesar, a gerente of the Holiday Inn, then comes to ask me the same personal questions, instead of asking me about my experience, why I would be good for the position, what I bring to the table, etc. I answer this time around, much more intelligibly since I have now said these answers twice. He explains how I fit the profile of what they are looking for as a waitress for their fine dining restaurant - they want young, motivated, and interesting people. But after about 20 minutes, he tells me he will talk with Paulo, and let me know. I have yet to hear back.

The second interview I had yesterday, took about ten minutes. It is for a bar in the center of the city, that has bands play and poetry readings, and gatherings of the sort. Maximilliano, my interviewer, explains the job - it will be thursday, friday, and saturday nights from 9 until 3 or 4 in the morning. I would work with one other person, and I should be prepared, since I am a Janqui (Yankee) to hear the wrath of the people. I tell him that it is a good conversation starter, so he shouldn't worry. They will pay me 8 pesos an hour and that doesnt include the measly tips that people barely leave here, especially if they are drunk. He tells me he will call me early next week and let me know, but if I don't get a call, well, its because I am not getting a call.

So like I said - in vain. I'll let you know.....just like they supposedly will......

A Fat Tale

after talking to Tamara this morning, I thought over what she said. And so I dedicate whatever this crap will be today, to her.

I have never been good at the love story chronicles. Any time I have ever put myself to write something about love, it usually comes out as a disgusting attempt. I did once write two pieces for a prose composition class my freshman year at NYU that could actually be considered autobiographical love stories.The first was a piece for an assignment for Professor Goldfin, where he asked the class to write about 5 pages or so, double-spaced, about something we were passionate about; i.e. a hobby, a person, a type of food, an abstraction, etc. I remember writing a really shitty first draft about escapism. How I have trouble being passionate about anything and that I use television as an escapism to avoid reality. Professor Goldfin hated the piece and we scheduled an appointment to talk during his office hours.
When we met, he told me I was copping out of the actual assignment and that I should change my topic. I spent the next week trying to think of things that I could possibly be passionate about and came up with nothing. The night before I had to turn in the redo, I went up to see a friend. I told him about how I couldn't do the essay and I was completely blocked. After much debating, he finally told me that maybe it would be a good idea to just write about being passionate about passion, since I used to say things like that my Freshman year of college. I sat at his desk and after a brief time, I had my first draft.
I basically wrote a count of my years of tumulutous boy-traumas - there were not many, I was only 18. But I ended the piece explaining how I had been hurt many times and yet I was always willing to get myself back together and put myself out there again. Because ultimately, I was passionate for that pang in your stomach when you know you like someone.You know what I mean...the fleeting second when the top of your belly drops like you are riding a roller coaster and you are about to make the big drop on Collasus.
The second piece I wrote later that year, after I fell for that friend. It was a bit cliched, just like the first. I dont think I had really become acquainted with my writing thumb yet or thought that any one in the world had gone through what I had. But it was a more of a quiet story about how things never actually work out the way you want them to in love.

Yet neither of the pieces were actually love stories. The first was a non-fiction drag and the second was about two failing relationships that occur simultaneously based on my life experience. Maybe I figured that once I was in love, it would somehow make the entire genre easier to write about --- well, it hasn't.

So sorry Tamara. Maybe some other day. But at least I tried.........

Mundanity

Settling into a regular routine home life in Rosario has been somewhat tougher than I thought. Maybe, after months of traveling, and not having an actual address, it may take me a while to transition. Or maybe, I just got unbelievably accostumed to the way things were and now, to actually say that I plan on being in one spot for a while, is just too much....I did toy with the idea last night of giving up the whole Rosario life and picking up today and heading to Buenos Aires to keep on traveling. And of course, I am hoping that since I didn't leave there will be some sort of positive outcome to me staying here - some kid from the neighborhood today, did try to jack me and all my belongings. So it must be written......somewhere.

Either way, Tamara did inform me that my blogs were becoming too much like a travellogue of sorts and that she wanted more dirt - so i figured I would try that out. Here's some dirt. Not much but enough to maybe keep you interested.

Finding a waitressing job here has been unbelievably tasking, which of course means that I have tried a few times and handed out my resume to various places and have not heard back once. So I am somewhat discouraged. I'm guessing this might come from the fact that previously in my life, all my jobs have been handed to me and I never had to look that hard for them. So I am unconsciously just waiting for the perfect thing to fall in my lap.

Other than the pitiful job trade, I have been writing. A novel - well, probably not. But I have been writing, getting myself into the supposed practice of writing. So I am trying to be positive about that aspect. And the dirt, well, there is none. I hate to brake it to you - Tamara, I just used my phrase. I am waiting on the whole my life is just naturally supposed to come together part - the friends, the routine, the life. As of now, the most exciting thing that happened to me was today when this 17 year old kid on a bike tried to steal my stuff and ended up grabbing and breaking all my necklaces and following me home. No worries, I yelled at him enough for trying and ended up with all my belongings- good sign! I now have to fix all my necklaces, but not so bad. Just some kid who was bored in my neighborhood and caught me at one of the deserted parts. It happens.

Everything else, I am slowly giving up to time. The job should figure itself out somehow and if it doesn't - well, I have no plan B. So I guess the whole writing thing should take up most of my time for now. Luckily I have no motivation for it and am distracting myself at a pool hall. So no dirt and some broken necklaces. It's an okay start. I did much worse in Sevilla, Spain - I showed up sick with a cold and crying to go home. At least here i have coffee in the mornings and cable. My roomate, Manu, isn't so bad either - especialy since I am not paying to live here. We seem to get along for the most part and he's pretty clean so far. So life is comfortable. Just a bit slow with sweltering heat.

Cross your fingers and hopefully I will have a job one day and actually start writing that novel I have been talking about for years. Hope you're all well. Miss you.

I think I have arrived.

So we took a 12 hour bus ride to get to Villazon, where we would cross the border into Argentina. We arrived into Villazon, in the south of Bolivia, around 8:30 am.

What ensued ended up being the longest day of my life---
So we got off the bus and somehow ended up following a little Bolivian man into a bus agency. He wanted to get us on a bus that left from the bus terminal in the Argentinian side at 11:30. So we bought tickets after about an hour of meandering to take out money and make sure we had seats on the bus. The bus ride would be about 20 hours long to get to Rosario, so I wanted to make sure the bus had reclining seats and that we definitely has seats on the bus -sometimes they give you tickets when there aren't seats.

Then the little man took us to get our passports stamped on the Bolivian side and said that that was as far as he took us. Afterwards, we headed to the insanely long line being formed to cross the border. Unfortunately, on this opportune day, there was only one official working at the immigrations office to cross into Argentina. We stood in that freaking line for 6 hours. Well, mainly I waited.
So as we waited in the line, I went and chatted with an officer trying to find out whether or not I had to pay an entrance fee to get into Argentina. Ryan had told me a few months back, that as of January 1st, US citizens had to pay a fee of $100 USD in order to get a traveler's visa. But after some lovely chatting, I discovered that luckily while the law had been passed, there was no one currently at the office to recieve and officialize the payment. So I was somewhat lucky in that respect. While waiting, I also went the bathroom in some weird market, bought water and cigarettes and chatted with a couple in front of us, who later ended up playing the guitar and singing for a bit. I also ate a sandwich, paced, and read.

Eventually, Manu went to the office where we bought our bus tickets, FlechaBus, to change them to a later time, so we would not have to deal with it, once we crossed. While he was there, some soldiers came by asking for the passports and DNI's (a type of identification card from Argentina) of Argentinians, so they could process those first and help move along the line. By then it was around 1:30 and by the time Manu came back, all the Argentinians in the line were placed outside of the line to recieve their identifications and cross into their country. So he crossed. I waited about 2 hours more and eventually as the line moved at a snail's pace, I made it to the front of the line.

Of course, the guy at the desk, strangely enough, while looking at my US passport, asked me if I was Argentinian. I told him, No, but he was convinced since I spoke Spanish so well. I am gloating there, if you didn't notice. He then stamped my passport and let me go. Another official checked my small backpack without ever looking into my big pack - weird. And I finally made it into Argentina!

So we got some food and beer and headed onto our bus. It left at 4:00 pm - and it was definitely more than a 20 hour bus ride. I think it was about 24 hours in total. But it stopped a bunch of times so everyone could eat and go to the bathroom. There was also a snack at night, a toilet on the bus, some bad movies, and a brief change of buses at 11 at night.

And after all of it, I made it into Rosario.

Rosario - the second largest city in Argentina, after Buenos Aires. And it is only about 4 hours from Buenos...I have been here for about two weeks and it has some type of familiarity to Sevilla. It is definitely a city but at the same time, it is small enough to feel quaint. (I also live in the suburbs here, which is probably why it resembles Sevilla so much to me - I lived in Tomares and would have to take the bus to get into Sevilla). But for the most part, I am getting pretty comfortable here. I have internet whenever I want, the town is on a river, the people are lovely - in all the ways one can be, my living situation is good (Manu has a dog), and little by little I am getting acclimated. I am working on getting a job here - I am thinking waittress but well see how that works out. And I've been writing and running. My routine is coming together. So it looks like I will be here for a substantial amount of time....so if anyone is interested in visiting me, you should definitely come! You will love Argentina. I love Argentina, even though I have only seen Rosario.But I am pretty settled, so think about it....

Sucre and Salar

The following morning, we headed to Sucre - the other capital of Bolivia. Apparently, Bolivia has a political capital and a judicial capital. La Paz is the governmental one and Sucre, the judicial one. Sucre, a very colonial and white washed city was mostly dead due to the referendum. Just like Ecuador, when there is an election, the entire country is dry of liqour and it is mandatory to vote. So there wasn't much to do other than wait around for the election to pass. Unfortunately, the city of Sucre is a bit more conservative than its partner La Paz and so the manifests Janury 25th were all for NO. But we headed to the main plaza anyway and watched the mayor of the region, an indigenous woman, speak on behalf of all the people for NO.

We ate a good dinner afterwards and headed back to the hostel. The band was going to separate, since Lucho and Andres wanted to head back to Argentina to get back to work, and Manu and I wanted to see Salar de Uyuni before we left Bolivia.

In the aftermath of Sucre, Manu and I seemed to run across an endless amount of bad luck - travelling wise, that is. So, if you're not looking at a map of Bolivia, which I am sure you are not, it is a bit difficult to explain. But here goes...

Travelling Hell: So we had gone north from Potosi to get to Sucre, so we obviously had to retrace our steps. We left on a bus, first thing at 7 to get to Uyuni at around 7 at night, but when you're in Bolivia, you can never know for sure. We went from Sucre, down south three hours to Potosi, where we stopped for two hours to eat and change buses. Luckily, we knew where to go to get a good breakfast and pass the time, since we had already been there. And eventually after a torturous 12 hours, it was during the day, we got to Uyuni.

In Uyuni, the plan was to immediately, get a hostel, get a tour agency to take us for a one day trip to Salar and also to get some type of transport - either bus or train, to Villazon that night. The hostel, we figured out quickly and after a bit of haggling, we also got a secure and cheap tour agency to take us from 10:30 am until about 6pm to Salar. And of course, getting to Villazon, where we would cross the border into Argentina, was a bit more laborious.

There was a train that leaves at 10:30 pm on tuesday night - much more comfortable, cheaper, and of course, only a mere 9 hours, which would have been perfect to take. Unfortunately, though, that night the office was already closed. So they informed us that to get a ticket the following morning, we should wake up at 6:30 to get in line until the ticket office opened at 9 am, still leaving us with time to get breakfast before our tour to Salar.

So we hung around the plaza, got some food from the lovely Comedor. God, I wish you could detect my sarcasm through the blog...if you didn't get it, the Comedor was less than lovely. And we headed to bed in our 'lovely' hostel. We got up at 6:30 and headed to the line at the train station, which was already quite full when we got there. Eventually after passing the hours reading and drinking some fresh juice, the office finally opened.

And of course, there were no tickets, and even if there were, there was about 20 or more in front of us. Luckily, I was with an Argentinian, since they LOVE to band together, because in about the span of two seconds...25 Argentinians had gotten together to rent a bus to leave at 9:30 pm to get to Villazon the next morning. So we bought tickets, got a quick coffee and headed to our tour agency.

Salar. The world´s largest salt flat sitting at the altitude of 3653 meters and covers 12,000 sq km. It was once the Lake Minchin and when it dried up, it became Salar de Uyuni. And if you saw the article in the New York Times yesterday, under Salar is the half the world's Lithium reserve - which of course, Evo is unrelenting to give up to his neighbors of the North. In general, it was quite a site and definitely worth all the hell that came before and after it. there is a salt hotel, rooms running for $50 US a night, - the entire hotel is made of salt..walls, tables, chairs, floor, ceiling...everything. the tour stopped also at a salt museum, and a lovely midday stop in la Isla de los Pescadores, which is an island in the middle of the salt flats with giant cactus all over and a great view of the flats. Incredible - the only word coming to me to explain it. A desert of salt where anyone could disappear by walking a few meters away from the group.

Eventually the tour ended and we headed back to Uyuni to get some food before the 12 hour bus ride to Villazon.

Oh I think somewhere in the midst of this, I forgot to mention that after a few days on antibiotics and losing a few extra kilos, I finally got better and got rid of the Bolivian bug that was eating me alive for about 10 days. And thank god, it left my system, I don't think I would have lasted through border crossing and the LOOONG trek into Argentina if I was still sick....

Evo Morales and the Inauguration of Obama

The first few days in La Paz, were somewhat rough for me. The weather was also pretty shitty with a lot of rainy days but that nothing seemed to stunt the boys. There was a day to see the Pre-Inca ruins of Tiahuanaco, which is Bolivia's most significant archeaological site with megaliths - a ruined pyramid and a ritual platform. I barely made it through the day however, and ended up sleeping on a couch in a restaurant off the site, while the boys meandered through the two museums and the sites. I desperately wanted to do the trek by bicycle down the 'World's Most Dangerous Road' to Coroico, but of course, no one would do it with me and most importantly my stomach also seemed to disagree with the idea. So instead we did a walking tour around the city center and took it easy.

(I did manage of course, on January 20th to head into an internet cafe and watch the inauguration of our 44th President, Barak Obama via CNN.com. And of course, I cried. I will say though, it was hard to find patriotism amidst the capital of Bolivia when it is in the middle of an election and three Argentinians who want nothing to do with the US. Luckily, though, Obama beamed beautifully in the largest crowd ever drawn in the Mall. And his speech somehow seemed to give me a bit of confidence, that change, was not just merely a slogan.)

On Thursday, after about 5 days or so, also the day we had planned to leave at night and head for Potosi, we spent the morning in the largest market I have ever seen. La Paz, in general is a city consisting only of various markets. There are no supermarkets, which I discovered in my quest for gatorade and definitely no shopping mall or centers. The city is all feria. The largest one, open only Thursdays and Sundays contains everything imagineable to man kind, set up in little tents or store fronts -El Alto. We spent most of Thursday there, looking around, shopping, haggling, and of course eating. It was truly amazing. Bikes, electronics, used clothes, new clothes, shoes, sweaters, sunglasses, sofas, car parts, tools, any type of house appliance, and some empanadas and soups.

After the fair, we headed back down to the city center, because due to the vote of the referendum, to amend the constitution, due to pass on January 25th, Evo Morales was to speak in the main plaza that night. Evo Morales, the first indigenous President to be elected, was supporting the vote for si, a yes to pass the new constitution. Amazingly, the more conservative side, for no, was propagandizing that a vote for no was choosing god. Elige No, Elige Dios. Pretty incredible to see how intertwined religion and politics still were within Bolivia. The new constitution was, in a bland and horrible generalization, to put more power in the hands of the people as a whole over their water and natural resources. It also was to unite the people autonomously and create a better political system - supposedly an unbiased system without corruption.

The night previous, we watched a town meeting organized by the people for Si. If that sounds a little antiquated, it probably was. But for Bolivian standards, it was unbelievably progressive and modern and to me, beautifully astonishing.
The Evo protest was colorfully interesting, which drew quite a large crowd. There were flags all over the place, marching, singing, coca leaves being thrown all over the place, a burning of some sort of political outfit. It all seemed pretty festive, but unfortunately we had to duck out there and head to the bus station to make our bus. So we never actually got to see Evo speak. Heard it was incredible, though definitely not the same.

So we took a long night bus ride to Potosi, the world's highest city at 4060 meters. Its backdrop, the Cerro Rico, an enormous mountain looming over the city is the city's main forum for income. It currently has over 165 mines, since as early as 1545, when they found ore deposits within the mountain, the mountain proved to be lucratively full of silver and wealth. We took a tour of the mines, which was interesting and of course claustraphobic and terrifying. The miners spend usually about three days out of the week, for full days inside mining. They are usually alone, and can't eat due to the horrible smell of arsenic. So they drink water and chew on coca leaves. It seemed drastically lonely inside and definitely risky, since there are avalanches quite often. Our guide, Roperto, told a story about when he was a miner and got stuck in one of the mines for three days. After that, he gave up the job and headed into the tourist industry - the only other trade in the city. While there, we also toured La Casa de Monedas to see how the first coins were crusted and minted.

The Last Resort

Not sure if you all remember, but about a year and a half ago, I did some research work for a documentary film by Dante Liberatore. Well, thanks to Earl Adams, I have finally now been informed that the movie is editted and finished and played last night at the Friar's club in NYC.

this is the link for the movie site and you can watch the trailer:
http://www.thelastresortfilm.com


I´ll let you all know when I know more about it.

Hecha Mierda contd.

Somehow we got from immigrations to Copacabana - a mostly tourist hub for backpackers heading to the islands on Lake Titicaca. A bunch of Argentinians had wrangled a boat for about 20 people to head to the northern side of La Isla del Sol. Most tourists head for a day trip or a weekend-long stay at the Southern end of the island. They have a museum and restaurants and three hour guided walking tours to get to the northern side which has beaches.

We opted to stay in the north. We wanted beach. So after a lengthy three hour boat ride, where I slept most of the way...we arrived and found a hostal: Inca Uti, the only place on the island with hot water. After our border crossing experience, we were desperate for a hot shower. Especially since I was sick....We settled in to our hostal, as the other Argentinians rented a tent and decided to camp out for the weekend. Locos. The temperature verges on freezing at night, even though the days are quite temperate and lovely.

When the sun settled we headed to get a good meal: a hot Quinoa soup and the island´s main and only protein- fresh trout from Lake Titicaca. Pretty tasty. The next day, Saturday, we woke and headed to the beach to relax in the sun. Unfortunately, I woke with some sort of stomach bug ----and so began my real experience in Bolivia. Hecha Mierda.

Luckily we were taking it easy on the island, and since I was still healing from the flu, I wasn´t eating that much - no apetite. That night, we tried some Singani, some type of Bolivian alcohol and hung with the Argentinians at the bonfire they had made at the beach. (I spent the night, manning the fire. Thanks dad for teaching me the very usefull knowledge of keeping a fire; where the logs go, how to keep the circulation of the air without blowing out the fire, and all without burning your fingers. If it wasn´t for my vast knowledge of fire skills, we might have frozen that night.) The next morning we woke early to breakfast and to head back on the three hour boat ride, back to civilization.

We got into Copacabana early afternoon, and of course, in my state - still sick from everything, I managed as well to trip on the dock as I headed off the boat with my backpack...Leaving some pretty nasty bruises on both my knees... See what I mean about my forgotten good luck??

We took a bus from Copacabana to La Paz, short ride with a bunch of beautiful views of Lake Titicaca and additionally a mid journey interlude where you must disembark from your bus, take a ferry across a river, separate from all autos and buses and wait on the other side for your transport, hopefully choosing the right one to get back on....

Once in La Paz, we headed to Hostal Jimenez, where I got a room all to myself and the 4 boys all dormed together below... I hadn´t had a room to myself for months. I can´t exactly explain the novelty of solitude while travelling, but after five months abroad and very little privacy, a mere room with a bed all to myself was, well, TRIUNFO! Plus, dont forget, I was sick with some type of parasite, so privacy was definitely convenient....

Hecha Mierda

Bolivia. A brief historical interlude: Bolivia, the poorest country in South America, in October of last year, threw out the US embassador and broke relations with US. Afterwards, any US citizen wanting to travel through Bolivia, in order to get a travelling visa, had to pay $134 to enter and deal with the lovely guards at immigration.

Border crossing: from Arequipa, we took a seven hour bus ride at 1am to get to Puno early, the city in Peru on Lake Titicaca. From Puno, we took a two hour bundy (buses or collectivos are main transport but for smaller/less expensive trips there are bundies) to get to Kasani. Arequipa was cold due to the altitude and somehow three of us got stuck with the flu, so keep in mind - I crossed the border in a feverish haze. Caution: dont try unless you have three highly trained Argentinians and one German to take care of you while dealing with Bolivian customs and a fever. Not Recommended.
So we got off the bus and in three separate bicycle riskshaws, we headed to the arc that borders the two countries. Bycicle rickshaws - get the image of Kramer pushing his rickshaw up a hill in your head, then imagen, with your eyes closed, a luminous hill and instead of Kosmo Kramer imagen a small Peruvian trying to get a cart carrying the heavy weight of two persons and all their luggage up that same hill. With the elevation at 4000 meters, the guys driving the bicycles, seemed to have a BIT of trouble getting us to the arc, the boys hopped off to walk alongside the cart. I stayed put - I barely knew where I was.

Eventually the Peruvians led us to a shop to exchange money and buy something for my fever. We said our thanks and paid the men and headed to immigration. We first had to go to immigration on the Peruvian side, which was easy enough. They stamped our passports. Then we crossed through the foreboding colonial arc to Bolivia.
Once in Bolivia, we headed again straight towards immigration - a small office with three desks and two guards. All four boys, in about five minutes had finished their paperwork and waited outside eating some Pringles.

I was ordered to do as follows: Without asking, I pulled out the $140 I had and handed it over to somesort of Bolivian official. Then there were mounds of paperwork to fill out - where i was headed, how long I was to be there, who I was, why I was travelling, etc. Eventually, after about ten to fifteen minutes of papers, then I was to sit down at a desk, hand over/or rather make copies of my passport and of my vaccination card. Then an explanation that my visa was valid for 90 days out of the year for five years, so for the next five years I will be able to travel within Bolivia for 90 days all the following years. Not sure if I´ll actually take them up on that, but its nice to know its there.

Eventually I was done. Well, I did have to go back inside and ask for my change, somehow the Bolivian official had already put away my six dollars of change without notifying me, but luckily I remembered and asked for it.

Afterwards we headed to Copacabana, to take a boat with 16 other Argententians to La Isla del Sol on Lake Titicaca to spend the weekend.

Getting to the Point

January 7. I took a quick flight and hopped over from Cusco to Lima. I had picked up three Argentinians - friends of Flor's. Andres, Lucho, and Manuel. My new travelling band from Rosario, Argentina.

The four of us crashed Flor's pad for a quick 5 days. Site seeing and partying. Days included
tours of the catacombs in the Cathedral and introducing the boys to Peruvian cuisine including my favorite bar in Barranco, Lima - Juanitos. Best sandwich and beer in town. Also, stops at Bigote for Ceviche - raw fish cooked in lemon juice, Jalea - a fried assortment of fish with a white fish filet at the bottom and some yuca, chicharron - calamari with great tartar sauce, tacu tacu - rice with beans, and of course lots of Cusqueña - the beer.

Eventually the 13th came, and we all had a flight to Arequipa to embark on the journey south. A goodbye lunch at Bigote and the boys went on their way to the airport. My plan was to stay in town and wait for my debit card to arrive the following day, forego my flight with the boys and take a 13 hour bus ride to Arequipa to meet them on the 15th.Luckily I ran into an exceptional amount of good luck, which sadly diminished the minute I crossed the border into Bolivia.....

The boys took off on their flight - leaving me behind and by chance, my debit card showed up at the apartment a day earlier than the tracking online had said. My original flight, an hour long, spent an actual three hours circling the airport in Arequipa, unable to land due to the clouds. So the flight headed back to land in Lima and rescheduled for 4am the following morning.

As I settled into the idea of my future possibly excruciating bus ride in Flor's apartment over a Pizza Hut pizza night the boys surpisingly showed up at the apartment to wait for their later flight.

In a whirlwind, I packed my bag and said goodbyes, figuring I could talk my way onto the flight at 4am. With some fast talking by Andres, the stewardess at the check-in desk asked some questions and got me on the flight to Arequipa. We got into Arequipa airport early morning and headed to a hostal to catch up on some sleep.

We slept into the afternoon and woke to get oriented...(Falk - a German friend of a friend, joined us in Arequipa to travel through Bolivia with us.) With two days in the second largest city of Peru, we didn´t do much. Manuel and I toured a museum to see Juanita - the child mummy found in the mountains nearby.And otherwise we relaxed to prep for BOLIVIA.....

more of the Past.

Of course, upon arriving drearily into Cuzco, the ladies napped. The altitude punishes you as you climb the steep cobbled roads, so the siesta is a must. It rained for the next day or so and so the 5 ladies, including myself, hopped on a bus and headed to Puno. The city that lies on Lake Titicaca, bordering Bolivia. We arrived after a tiring eight hour bus ride and headed on a tour of the floating islands of Lake Titicaca - altitude 4000 meters.



Los Uros. Upon the colonization of Peru and Bolivia, people constructed and moved onto Los Uros to detach themsevles and to maintain their native traditions , speaking either Quechua or Uymara. There are currently 2200 people living on these remote thatched islands. Ranging from a family of two to a family of twelve living on one island. We stayed a night on one of them with a very hospitable and simpatico family. It rained quite furiously through the night, but luckily the day settled into a hot one as we left Los Uros and headed for Taquile Island. Taquile, a natural reserve, which is an enormous island in the middle of the Lake. We ate lunch and went along with the tour, hiking up and through the mountainous isle.
A completely packaged American tourist (i.e. big awkward hat with a flamboyant picture of Machu Picchu in the front, a sunscreened white face, sunglasses from the 80s on a string around his neck, khakis that unzip from pants into shorts if necessary, and a shirt with a picture of some textile fabric and the word, Peru underneath - here, they would call this typical Janqui, or for us, Yankee) kept complaining how his tour group had left him stranded on one of the islands of Los Uros and he couldn´t believe that anyone could be left behind. He had to take another boat to Taquile in order to try and catch up with his lost tour, unfortunately, that meant he was stuck with us, on my freaking boat! He yelled at our tour operator and then once again when we arrived to Taquile. Eventually as we were heading towards the port of Taquile to leave I saw the Janqui complaining again to some Brazilian tourists.
¨Get over it, dude,¨ I said after hearing the story for the fourth time.
¨You know, if that was to happen on a scuba diving trip, they would take away the licenses of the tour operators and guides.¨He said, consistent with every other time he had told the story.
¨Well, I hate to break your bubble, but you´re not scuba diving....This isn´t the states. Welcome to South America, bud.¨I said with a bow and continued walking on with my tour group of Taquile.
-------->Probabaly why so few of us Yankees ever make it down to Peru; the Peruvians dont necessarily take responsibility. Tour guides leave behind people part of their tour, they never tell you lunch is not included in the price until you have no other option for food, peruvian time must always be tripled- if they say one hour, it is really three- and nothing has a fixed price - there is always room for negotiation. Right, Amiga?

After the tour we headed back to Puno and took a bus through the night to arrive back in Cuzco.
Cuzco - Ruinistic. There was a birthday party for me, of course, including my favorite bottle of Scotch, a piñata in the shape of a beer bottle, and a cake that was smashed ever so eloquently into my face at 3 am on the 31st. There was the end of the year dinner in the hostel on the 31st and then a run around the Plaza de Armas at midnight for good luck in the new year. A ridiculous amount of fireworks and firecrackers - one of which accidently hit me in the face and drew some blood. Caution - if you hold a firecracker in your hand and then light it, dont forget to let it go! (otherwise, it might crack and hit one of your friends standing close by). Later on in the night, there proceeded to be lots of Chela (beer) and dancing. And then a few days of rest, to recuperate.

The beginning of 2009, seemed to be flowered with the past. Especially since I was in Cuzco, and most of my days consisted of viewing old Inca ruins. Nonetheless, historically and aesthetically pleasant. My favorites been Salineras and Moray, which were unbelievably breathtaking. (Other than Machu Picchu, throughout and around Cuzco, there are various amounts of ruins, each with distinct functions, resources, capabilties, and explanations of their histories.)

Eventually, after days and days of brick remains with accented fertil green grass, I headed back to Lima AGAIN.

Porque? Porque....

In the recent month, a lot happened. It was all actually quite enjoyable.

There was a weekend at the beach; Punta Hermosa - translating to mean the beautiful point, which is meant to be ironic, I think. The town was grungy, the water contaminated - a greenish yellow that supposedly stains the skin, unrelentingly hot, and of course, the burning South American sun - it burns through the 50 Sunblock you put on. The weekend was relaxing. It was a mini break from Lima.

Sometime after there was Christmas dinner. A Jew´s Christmas. It was announced amidst the devouring of a store bought dinner, that it was my first Christmas because I was Jewish.
A family member at the table proceeded to ask the following questions:
¨Do Jews smoke?¨
¨Well,¨ I hesitated to respond, ¨Do Peruvians smoke?¨
Also---
¨Aren´t Jews really closeminded and segregated, you know, because they like to live separate from everyone else?¨
¨No,¨I immediately said through my wine glass.
And eventually, while I was finishing a glass of wine----
¨Well, we know those Jews can drink,¨gesturing me.
No response from me for that one....

The 25th of December I headed to Cuzco for a second go thinking that I would just spend a flash of time through the New Year with some friends and head into Bolivia. This did not happen. And now I am back in Lima.