read brandon's blog, too. he uses proper punctuation. :)
http://planlessbsas.blogspot.com/
Sunday, October 31, 2010
on halloween, food, and other necessities for contemporary living
i don't pick favorite holidays. i generally don't pick favorites of anything--it seems like a waste of time to devote energy to something that is always subject to change. well, unless there is a certain amount of specificity involved. it's easy for me to think: my favorite holiday in 2009, 4th of july. my favorite holiday in 2008, halloween. 2010 isn't over yet, but i can probably say that halloween isn't going to be it this year. there were festivities happening around buenos aires last night, but the necessity to save money is crucial. also, last night, i didn't feel like getting belligerent with a bunch of strangers. last time we did that (BA pubcrawl) i wasn't thoroughly impressed with the night. instead brandon and i made up some costumes from our own wardrobes and walked 2 blocks to the irish (ish) pub. they have really cheap drinks every night until midnight. we each had 2 and then started to feel tired and walked home, went to bed. i wasn't wholly disappointed, not like brandon. halloween is his favorite holiday, and not being able to celebrate like he wants is weighing on him. of course i would have preferred to celebrate and have a ton of fun and dress up fancily, but we can't do that, so i'll just look forward to the next holiday. although, i don't see myself waiting around to have an epic, grand time. it happens when it happens, and like most things, it'll be much better unexpected. besides---tonight we are having a scary movie marathon! how halloween of us. we'll drink red wine and call it blood, we'll close all the curtains so it will be pitch black, and we'll curl up scared under the covers, watching horror after horror from brandon's laptop. and tomorrow, we're going to visit the renowned recoletta cemetery, famous for it's many decadent crypts. we probably even have enough scary movies to continue the marathon tomorrow night.
speaking of our collection of scary movies, this is another point of interest. recently, after the columbians staying downstairs left, our internet bandwidth suddenly exploded. we now have the ability to download (very quickly) movies and music and whatever else we want. this has been a huge part of my life for a long time, the availability of media. it was hard to think that the new kings of leon album had come out and i wouldn't be able to acquire it for my listening pleasure until i returned to the US. now, i am listening to the new kings of leon album. and i have a couple of almodovar films on my computer. and soon i will have shutter island and date night as well. living in argentina does not mean i have to be completely cut off from all things american. yes, i want to immerse myself in the culture here, but i also have an identity, already established. i enjoy music and film, and that will always be a huge part of my life if i have anything to do with it. i'm just glad buenos aires has high-speed internet available to me. that much wasn't clear until yesterday. phew.
i have been craving burritos lately, probably because i found out they don't sell tortillas at the stores here. black or pinto beans can't be found anywhere. what about cheddar cheese? no. pepperjack, that's a joke. woe is me, woe is me. then, (after a little advice from a girl we met at a birthday dinner the other night) i was perusing the aisles of a chino, and i came across a little package of tortilla-looking items called rapiditos. indeed, they were flour tortillas. after that, i made my way over to the sauce section of the store, and found a hot sauce-looking bottle. turns out, a few hours later, brandon and i were enjoying some mozzarella&avocado quesedillas with a homemade corn and tomato salsa, spiced with that delicious little bottle of hot sauce.
we had also purchased 1 kilo of strawberries for 5 pesos. (file under: things i love about buenos aires). we quickly devoured them, all of them, while drinking cheap argentinean wine, of course.
it was a lovely afternoon, despite the halloween-induced homesickness.
btw: we found a place to live starting on nov 4th. we are officially not homeless! it may not be the most ideal place, (living with an old woman whose length of stay is uncertain, and a nice lady who is probably in her 30's, but shy, it seems, and starting at the end of november, the owner of the apartment, who i think is in his 30's or 40's, but who knows what he is like...i've only spoken with him over the phone and emailed him) but the house itself is great. the bedroom brandon and i will be sharing is big, with a lot of space for our things and a huge table--ample workspace for two writers. there is a nice, stocked kitchen, a real bathroom with a real shower, and a communal garden which we share with the other tenants of the building (we have a window that opens up to the garden). the apartment is big overall, with plenty of space for brandon, luna and me--- amplified in my memory by the seriously high ceilings. more details after we move in.
Friday, October 29, 2010
small triumphs, small defeats
On Census Day (Wednesday), the previous president of Argentina, Nestor Kirchner, had a heart attack and died. The current president is his wife. Brandon mentioned it in the morning when he was reading news, but it didn't hit me until we were walking through San Telmo in the evening and went into a cute little hole in the wall where we ordered a cheap liter of beer and sat down. The tv was on, showing footage of the activities happening at that moment in downtown Buenos Aires, perhaps a ten minute walk from where we were sitting. Inside la Casa Rosada, the speeches praised the former president and offered condolences to the family. Or at least this is what I imagine was being said, watching Cristina (the current president) hold herself together in the spotlight.
If Brandon and I had not been on our way to meet with a group of American writers for the weekly Thursday night discussion of the work submitted that Tuesday, we would have gone over to Plaza de Mayo to witness the event firsthand. By the time the meeting was over (the meeting began with some political talk that was jump-started by the death of Nestor Kirchner, followed some gossip regarding another English-speaking writing group in Buenos Aires, and finally we talked about my poem and chapter two of another guy's travel narrative), we were too tired to make the trek downtown. It was late. We had been drinking wine throughout the meeting.
A few hours before the meeting, I had a little situation at the supermarket. It made me want to only go to the little markets (called chinos) from then on. Here goes: Brandon and I had recently discovered that if you bring your beer bottles in to the supermarket, there is a machine that takes them and you get a voucher to bring to the cashier for money. This is only fair, because every beer you buy, you are charged a "deposit" of 1.25 for the bottle. Well, for once, we remembered to bring some of our bottles. I can just see us, proudly walking the three blocks from our apartment to the store, ready and excited to use this machine, finally doing things the Argentinean way. But when we arrived, we found the machine uttering loudly some mechanical words we didn't understand and covered with a sign that obviously indicated that the machine was out of order! At the time, I was infuriated, my excitement deflated just as quickly as it came. Now I have to laugh. That truly is the Argentinean way, broken machine and all. This was only a small defeat, though. We left the bottles next to the machine, unwilling to carry them back, especially when we had planned to buy more beer. Beer that was on sale! Hooray for us! We picked out a few different kinds then a couple other items, then we went to pay. I watched the cashier ring up the beer, noticing the sale price not being rung in. So I asked her in my broken Spanish what the problem was. She called over someone to investigate. Between the time it took for someone to actually come over, then to go check out the situation on the other end of the store where the beer is located, I was thoroughly embarrassed and upset, watching other locals leave our line to move to a quicker one, giving me the stink-eye. At least, I thought, she'll come back and fix the cashier's mistake. This was my consolation for the embarrassment. No. Instead, the woman returns to inform me that in order to get the sale, you have to only buy the same kind of beer. Well, it was the same brand, just different varieties that I had picked out. What kind of popsicle stand was this place??? The cashier just looked at me, terribly annoyed, and I paid and stormed out, leaving Brandon behind to pay for his things.
This is the point where I decided I never wanted to go to that supermarket again. It's only cheaper than the market sometimes, and if the sale items couldn't even be purchased for the sale price, well then fuck them and I'll go elsewhere. Heheh.
Today, estoy tranquila. I just didn't know, and now I know. Next time, I'll get it right. Next time, maybe the machine won't be broken and I can have fun using it to get my bottle deposit back.
If Brandon and I had not been on our way to meet with a group of American writers for the weekly Thursday night discussion of the work submitted that Tuesday, we would have gone over to Plaza de Mayo to witness the event firsthand. By the time the meeting was over (the meeting began with some political talk that was jump-started by the death of Nestor Kirchner, followed some gossip regarding another English-speaking writing group in Buenos Aires, and finally we talked about my poem and chapter two of another guy's travel narrative), we were too tired to make the trek downtown. It was late. We had been drinking wine throughout the meeting.
A few hours before the meeting, I had a little situation at the supermarket. It made me want to only go to the little markets (called chinos) from then on. Here goes: Brandon and I had recently discovered that if you bring your beer bottles in to the supermarket, there is a machine that takes them and you get a voucher to bring to the cashier for money. This is only fair, because every beer you buy, you are charged a "deposit" of 1.25 for the bottle. Well, for once, we remembered to bring some of our bottles. I can just see us, proudly walking the three blocks from our apartment to the store, ready and excited to use this machine, finally doing things the Argentinean way. But when we arrived, we found the machine uttering loudly some mechanical words we didn't understand and covered with a sign that obviously indicated that the machine was out of order! At the time, I was infuriated, my excitement deflated just as quickly as it came. Now I have to laugh. That truly is the Argentinean way, broken machine and all. This was only a small defeat, though. We left the bottles next to the machine, unwilling to carry them back, especially when we had planned to buy more beer. Beer that was on sale! Hooray for us! We picked out a few different kinds then a couple other items, then we went to pay. I watched the cashier ring up the beer, noticing the sale price not being rung in. So I asked her in my broken Spanish what the problem was. She called over someone to investigate. Between the time it took for someone to actually come over, then to go check out the situation on the other end of the store where the beer is located, I was thoroughly embarrassed and upset, watching other locals leave our line to move to a quicker one, giving me the stink-eye. At least, I thought, she'll come back and fix the cashier's mistake. This was my consolation for the embarrassment. No. Instead, the woman returns to inform me that in order to get the sale, you have to only buy the same kind of beer. Well, it was the same brand, just different varieties that I had picked out. What kind of popsicle stand was this place??? The cashier just looked at me, terribly annoyed, and I paid and stormed out, leaving Brandon behind to pay for his things.
This is the point where I decided I never wanted to go to that supermarket again. It's only cheaper than the market sometimes, and if the sale items couldn't even be purchased for the sale price, well then fuck them and I'll go elsewhere. Heheh.
Today, estoy tranquila. I just didn't know, and now I know. Next time, I'll get it right. Next time, maybe the machine won't be broken and I can have fun using it to get my bottle deposit back.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
day 14: primavera
i should have started this before.
i want to mention the most hilarious thing i have done here, as a sort of preface. brandon and i got very lost one day while walking luna. it was especially stressful because we had only just arrived a couple days previous and we were supposed to meet a girl that is a friend of a friend of a friend who was willing to help us adjust, meet with us even though it was completely out of the way and she was probably too busy to bother. in any case, as we wandered the dusk streets of buenos aires, recognizing no street names, crossing diagonal after diagonal street, i felt worse and worse. we were walking my dog, thus it was my fault we were lost. so i asked someone if he knew how to get to (insert the street name of our temporary apartment). he gave me the most puzzled look i had seen since i arrived here. hmm. i thought, is my spanish that bad? is it my accent? what the hell?! nonetheless, quite frustrating. and still lost. so i asked someone else, and they gave me the exact same puzzled, perhaps offended look. i looked at brandon, slightly scared that no one would be able to help us. we eventually found someone who gave us vague directions back to a place we recognized and could navigate our way back to the apartment.
here is what happened. our apartment is on a street called Estado de Israel. so i was going around asking people: donde esta Estado de Israel. translation: where is the state of israel? this is a very political and personal question, and why is a person asking strangers about such a controversial topic on the streets at dusk? these people are just waiting for the bus. they just want to go home.
my bad. what i meant to say was: donde esta la avenida Estado de Israel? (where is avenue Estado de Israel?)
since then, things have been up and down. i knew it would happen. the helpless feelings, the homesickness (but where is my home, really?), the discouragement. i often rely on the red wine (malbec, delicious and cheap) when i feel those things. and brandon, too. a person alone would have a much harder time existing through this without the companionship of their best friend--for me, a person who i can trust with my best and worst emotional states, who can laugh with me with the same force (full stomach laughter) about our mistakes and runs of bad luck, as well as the odd fashion decisions of many pedestrians we have passed.
the situation that i currently feel after two weeks: i am unsure. i will at least stay here until march. this is the point when i will run out of savings and have to return back to the states with enough money to also have a life there (move to portland, OR, probably!). the job situation is sticky. if we can find jobs here, they will be quite low-paying, perhaps not enough to support ourselves. the reason for this is because summer is about to begin and the people here chill out for the summer, because it is so hot, and because it is summer. they don't take english classes. many people leave. any decent job prospects for us begin in feb-march. another option is online work. we met a girl here who is doing just that. she helps college kids in the states revise their papers. it pays 10/hr usd. which is good. if even one of us could get this job, we could survive for a long time. if we wanted to. im still not sure if i would stay here longer. we shall see.
at the very least, i will be here until march. i will be working as a full-time poet. i will be working on a publishable manuscript. i will be ready to submit to contests and publishing houses when i return. i will be ready to apply for PhD programs and fellowships.
my least favorite part about buenos aires is the dog food. luna is used to having very high end food, full of nutrients and protein etc.. they have nothing of the sort here.
but i spent the day at a huge park in palermo, reading cortazar in the shade of a big tree. and i thought i could stay here for a long time. brandon and i had fresh bread and a bottle of wine. we were happy-- sitting there, reading. it seemed like life was exactly as it should be.
the reality is that we need to find an apartment soon. very soon. im above average in confidence that we will find somewhere. we are looking at a promising shared place (with Argentinians) on friday.
i want to mention the most hilarious thing i have done here, as a sort of preface. brandon and i got very lost one day while walking luna. it was especially stressful because we had only just arrived a couple days previous and we were supposed to meet a girl that is a friend of a friend of a friend who was willing to help us adjust, meet with us even though it was completely out of the way and she was probably too busy to bother. in any case, as we wandered the dusk streets of buenos aires, recognizing no street names, crossing diagonal after diagonal street, i felt worse and worse. we were walking my dog, thus it was my fault we were lost. so i asked someone if he knew how to get to (insert the street name of our temporary apartment). he gave me the most puzzled look i had seen since i arrived here. hmm. i thought, is my spanish that bad? is it my accent? what the hell?! nonetheless, quite frustrating. and still lost. so i asked someone else, and they gave me the exact same puzzled, perhaps offended look. i looked at brandon, slightly scared that no one would be able to help us. we eventually found someone who gave us vague directions back to a place we recognized and could navigate our way back to the apartment.
here is what happened. our apartment is on a street called Estado de Israel. so i was going around asking people: donde esta Estado de Israel. translation: where is the state of israel? this is a very political and personal question, and why is a person asking strangers about such a controversial topic on the streets at dusk? these people are just waiting for the bus. they just want to go home.
my bad. what i meant to say was: donde esta la avenida Estado de Israel? (where is avenue Estado de Israel?)
since then, things have been up and down. i knew it would happen. the helpless feelings, the homesickness (but where is my home, really?), the discouragement. i often rely on the red wine (malbec, delicious and cheap) when i feel those things. and brandon, too. a person alone would have a much harder time existing through this without the companionship of their best friend--for me, a person who i can trust with my best and worst emotional states, who can laugh with me with the same force (full stomach laughter) about our mistakes and runs of bad luck, as well as the odd fashion decisions of many pedestrians we have passed.
the situation that i currently feel after two weeks: i am unsure. i will at least stay here until march. this is the point when i will run out of savings and have to return back to the states with enough money to also have a life there (move to portland, OR, probably!). the job situation is sticky. if we can find jobs here, they will be quite low-paying, perhaps not enough to support ourselves. the reason for this is because summer is about to begin and the people here chill out for the summer, because it is so hot, and because it is summer. they don't take english classes. many people leave. any decent job prospects for us begin in feb-march. another option is online work. we met a girl here who is doing just that. she helps college kids in the states revise their papers. it pays 10/hr usd. which is good. if even one of us could get this job, we could survive for a long time. if we wanted to. im still not sure if i would stay here longer. we shall see.
at the very least, i will be here until march. i will be working as a full-time poet. i will be working on a publishable manuscript. i will be ready to submit to contests and publishing houses when i return. i will be ready to apply for PhD programs and fellowships.
my least favorite part about buenos aires is the dog food. luna is used to having very high end food, full of nutrients and protein etc.. they have nothing of the sort here.
but i spent the day at a huge park in palermo, reading cortazar in the shade of a big tree. and i thought i could stay here for a long time. brandon and i had fresh bread and a bottle of wine. we were happy-- sitting there, reading. it seemed like life was exactly as it should be.
the reality is that we need to find an apartment soon. very soon. im above average in confidence that we will find somewhere. we are looking at a promising shared place (with Argentinians) on friday.
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