Monday, August 22, 2011

Ya No Soy Turista!

Last week was busy.  Actually it was just Wednesday that was really packed, which was compounded by the fact that I went out on Tuesday night (knowing full well how many things I had to accomplish in the next two days!).  So I got home Wednesday morning at 3:30 (bad decisions, bad decisions, bad decisions), slept for a few hours before getting up and going to Immigration: not nearly as scary as they made it sound; we only had to hand in paperwork and wait for them to process it.  And it cost half as much as expected!  Also on the list of things to do: buy tickets for Cordoba, register for classes, hit a few fotocopiadoras to get some readings, read said readings, go to a bookstore to buy books for a lit class, and buy tickets for Eric Clapton, who's coming in October (the one thing on the list that I am still unable to check off).  Oh, and I almost forgot.  Our room-swapping plan was rejected, since USAL suddenly decided all of the U.S. exchange girls had to be rooming with a native Spanish speaker instead of each other.  So I still get to move to Katia's room, on the condition that we speak in Spanish rather than English, but Callie and Katherine have to move to another floor.  I don't understand why USAL didn't issue this decree before we all settled into our rooms?  Maybe before we arrived?  I'm excited to finally have a roommate, but I'm not excited to be moving into the third room I've had since arriving here.  I'll be happy tomorrow night, when I'm all settled in for good (I hope...)

So last Wednesday and Thursday marked the end of our trial period with classes, and we had to finally register.  I actually had no trouble: I knew exactly which courses I wanted to take, and I'm pretty excited about almost all of them.  My history class is a bit dry, but that's to be expected, I suppose.  I'm taking two political science classes: History of the Political Processes and Ideas of Argentina, and of Latin America.  I'm also taking an Argentine lit class, and a Spanish course that is a seminar of the History and Culture of Tango.  The first day I tried it out, it completely intimidated me (not hard to do), but after last week, I love it!  It's fascinating material: cultural history, not the economic data and dates and presidencies of my other history class.  And it's a very small group: I think we're going to end up with only three people registered, so it's intimate and surprisingly easy for me to participate, something that's usually absurdly stressful for me.  I'm excited for the semester.

Thursday night Maria and I left for our second trip: Cordoba!  It was an incredible weekend, which I'll be glad to recount tomorrow.  Like last time, here's a quick overview:

  • Days away from Bs As: 3
  • Nights in hostel: 2
  • Nights on overnight bus: 2
  • Different hostels stayed in: 1
  • Mind-blowing meals: 3
  • Number of doors that stuck, making me think I would be stuck in a bathroom forever: a shockingly high 3
  • Churches visited/viewed: +/- 5
I think that'll do for now.  Pictures and details to come.

Sunday, August 14, 2011

Up Ahead

I suddenly have a bunch of things to look forward to.
  1. The most obvious: my parents' arrival in less than two weeks!
  2. A trip to Cordoba this weekend with Maria and possibly Katia
  3. An Eric Clapton concert in October-- for about US $50
  4. Possibly seeing The Strokes in November, just days before I head home.
  5. Heading home is in itself something to look forward to, though I won't be counting the days or anything.
  6. A visit to Loyola in November!
Another possible reason for my current excitement level?  I drank a lot of mate today. 
...I'm never going to fall asleep.

Comienzo del Cuatrimestre

For the first two weeks of the semester, exchange students were allowed to try out classes to see which ones they wanted to take.  Tomorrow begins the third week of classes; we have to register by Wednesday, and I'm still not 100% certain.  The goal is to achieve a balance of extranjero and regular classes (extranjero classes are designed for exchange students) as well as a schedule that leaves Fridays and/or Mondays free for traveling.  I was surprised to find that two of the classes that interest me most are political science classes.  Aside from that, I'm looking at two lit classes, a history class and a Spanish class about the history/literature/culture of tango.  It's been interesting finding all the different buildings-- most USAL students take all of their classes in one facultad, or department, but since we can pick and choose we have to go to various facultades-- and meeting new people and seeing what kind of things we're going to be doing in classes this semester.  And with every class, you have to go to different kioscos and fotocopiadoras to get photocopies of the reading material: a bit of a hassle finding them all, but so much cheaper than textbooks that it doesn't matter. 

On Thursday the exchange office organized a get-together for exchange kids and anfitriones (host students) at a bar a few blocks from our residence.  I arrived late, as I was coming from a class that ends at 10:00 (absurd).  When I got there, though, Callie confirmed my suspicions by telling me that yes, Maria was here and she was with her anfitrión (Germán) as well as a friend from home.  Claudio, who Maria and I both know from Loyola, had come to visit Germán and was there at the bar.  There's something so exciting and comforting about seeing someone from home.  We ended up going out with them and a few more of Germán's friends and had a really great night.  In the time since I last wrote an entry, I've also hit a couple of well-known clubs in BA: Club 69, which, on Thursday nights, has an absolutely wild drag show, and Asia de Cuba, which I've been to once before, a place that always makes you feel like a super VIP (especially when you're on "the list" thanks to the girls from the Resi!).

Friday we met up with Claudio again and visited MALBA, the Museo de Arte Latinoamericano de Buenos Aires (pretty sure that's the acronym), which was really nice and something I'd been meaning and wanting to do.  Saturday Katia and I went for a walk and hit all the major sights of Recoleta: the flower sculpture, the cemetery, the fair-- things we've checked out before but are always worth a second trip.  And today will consist of a great deal of reading and some planning for a possible trip this weekend.  Maria and I were looking at Mendoza, but it's looking more expensive and less necessary than we'd thought.  Not sure where we'll end up, but you can bet I'll be writing about it.  And by the time the next weekend rolls around, our parents will be arriving for their week-long stay.  Time is FLYING.  Less than three months till I'm back in the U.S.-- absolutely unbelievable.

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Destination 4: Rosario

Let me see how many descriptive phrases I can stick together to describe Rosario.  It's like this cool, laidback, indie, semi-hipster, stellar little city about four hours northwest of Buenos Aires.  Maria and I arrived there Tuesday morning.  For the first hour or so, we walked up and down streets looking for our hostel, but realized that we had a bad map and the bus hadn't dropped us off where we thought it had.  So we grabbed a cab.

The hostel we stayed in was called Che Pampa's.  Rosario is the birthplace of revolutionary icon Che Guevara; his face and name are everywhere.  The place was really cool.  It was an old rowhouse, refurbished and redecorated.  It was all bright colors and cool music (I was geeking out when I heard The Strokes and The Black Keys within ten minutes of each other) and a great view off our little balcony.  We just needed to drop our bags, shower, and change our clothes before we headed out on the town.  We didn't have solid plans for Rosario: we had read about a few museums and the monument to the national flag, so we figured we'd check them all out.  What we didn't read about was all the shopping.  We left the hostel, bound for the flag monument, but within two blocks we were distracted by a peatonal (pedestrian street, like Calle Florida in Buenos Aires) lined with stores.  We saw dozens of shoe stores with the same beautiful boots we'd seen in Bs As, only here they were actually affordable!  Suddenly our mission in Rosario was for each of us to find a pair of boots.  For me, it was the first pair I tried on:




Maria had a harder time.  Three or four pairs, two or three stores, but she finally got hers, too.  After we finished, we walked down to admire the flag monument for a while.


Then we went down by the water, got hot dogs, and snacked for a while, enjoying the sunlight and the people-watching.  That's what I'm going to remember most about Rosario, I think: the peacefulness.  It was decidedly urban, especially in comparison with the other places we'd been in previous days, but it was not Buenos Aires.  It didn't have that hurried feeling of chaos.  It was so nice.  Any time not spent shopping here was spent sitting in a relaxed, sort of pensive silence.  As it got near sunset, we went back to the hostel for a bit.  We met some people-- a girl from Holland and a girl from Argentina-- and watched a movie before heading back out for dinner.  We went, of course, to another excellent pizza place.  Afterward we went to the movies.

Wednesday morning, our bus was at 11:00.  We checked out of the hostel around 10:00 and grabbed a cab.  We had full-reclining seats and meal service again, despite the short duration of the trip.  When we got in at Retiro, we started walking up Avenida del Libertador, looking for a stop for the colectivo 61.  We never did find it, and actually ended up walking all the way back to the Resi.  It wasn't terribly far, but I think next time we'll make sure to look up how to get home before we leave the city.

So, there you have it!  My first major traveling excursion in Argentina.  FIN.

Sunday, July 31, 2011

Destinations 2 & 3: Wanda and San Ignacio

I am currently trying to put together a schedule of classes to attend for this two-week "tryout" period.  It is way more complicated than it should be.  So many of the courses that are recommended for extranjeros are at the same time!  Not cool, guys.  Not cool.

So to pick up where I left off in my traveling tales, Sunday morning, Maria and I got on a bus to Wanda, about an hour away from Iguazu.  We got dropped off on the side of the road, at the end of this dirt driveway where there was a little ticket booth and some guys milling around.  When we got off the bus, they approached to offer us remise (hired car) service to the mines, which were what we had come to see.  We asked if it was possible to walk, because we didn't want to spend the money.  They said sure, it was possible, but a group of people had just been robbed walking that road.  We decided fifty pesos was not at all a bad price.  Don't be too impressed by the idea of a car service.  It was just this guy's personal car, a dumpy little sedan, and he drove us a few miles to the mines.  He was very friendly, though, and before he left we arranged a time for him to come back for us.

We took a brief tour, ooh'ed and ahh'ed at the beautiful stones-- quartz and amethyst, mostly-- and actually got to walk through the tunnels.  The guide told us about how each stone formed and how the miners extracted the stones with dynamite.  It was pretty interesting, and the stones were absolutely beautiful.

I wish I knew how to rotate photos...


After touring the mine, we started to walk through the "Parque de los mitos guaranies," which, as cool as it sounds, was, to be blunt, kind of half-assed.  It was a self-guided tour with recordings of myths at each stop.  Pretty boring.  Instead we spent the remainder of our time (before Alberto, our driver, came to pick us up) in the gift shop.  We each bought a few things, mostly gifts for friends.  At 12:15, Alberto arrived.  He drove us back almost to where we were dropped off, but when we told him we were headed to San Ignacio, he stopped at a bus shelter on the side of the road.  It was unmarked and standing completely alone on a long stretch of open road.  Alberto told us that a bus would arrive within fifteen minutes.  We could buy tickets when we boarded, and it would take us to San Ignacio.  We waited there with what appeared to be a few locals, and a couple of backpackers.  Finally the bus-- a very small one-- arrived.  It was crowded and there was no A/C.  This certainly was not the same bus experience that we had had between Buenos Aires and Puerto Iguazu.  This was four hours of sweaty, smelly passengers boarding and getting off, seats that hardly reclined, and hot sun beating down through the windows, despite the closed curtains.  But somehow it was exciting.  We were in Wanda and just hopped on a random bus to get to our next destination.  And four hours wasn't so terribly long.

Finally, at around 5:00 p.m., we arrived in San Ignacio.  The backpackers who had gotten on the bus with us in Wanda also got off in San Ignacio.  We walked across to the tourism office, which we could see from where we were dropped off (not at the bus station, but again sort of on the side of the road).  The guy in the tourism office could not have been more helpful or nice (or adorable...but, you know, that's irrelevant).  He told us about all the available activities in San Ignacio.  Everything fell perfectly into place here.  We would go to the light show at the Jesuit ruins that very night, then back the next morning to tour the ruins during the day.  After that, we would take a "tranquilo" (peaceful) bike ride to the provincial park Teyu Cuare, where we could see beautiful vistas of the rio Parana and Paraguay on the opposite shore.  This guy even told us we could leave our bags at the tourism office with him, since we would be checking out of the hostel early in the morning.  With all this in place, we made our way to the hostel.

Adventure Hostel San Ignacio was not as impressive as Hostel-Inn Iguazu, but we really only needed a place to shower and sleep, so it did just fine.  And we met some interesting people during our stay.  There was an older gentleman who wanted to impart his great wisdom about the Spanish language, and told us we would master it quickly.  As entertaining as he was, his condescension got to me pretty quickly.  We also spent some time chatting with two younger guys, one of whom was on vacation and actually works in Buenos Aires, in a building really close to where we took our intensive review course.  After chatting with them for a bit, we started walking to the ruins to see the light show.  It was well done: it told the story of the mission settlement in San Ignacio, how the guaranies and the Jesuits came together to form a community and how that community was destroyed, fell into ruin, and was rediscovered.  They projected the...movie, I guess you could call it, onto walls of water.  It was really interesting and made the projections look like ghosts, which was kind of appropriate.  After the show, we went to a little restaurant that the tourism guy recommended.  It was delicious, of course.  We went back to the hostel and did some research on Rosario before going to bed, as it was to be our next destination.

The next morning we got up, ate breakfast, checked out of the hostel, and headed to the tourism office.  We dropped our bags, got our bikes, and also got confirmation of the seats that the guy had booked for us on a bus to Rosario for that evening.  We hopped on our bicis and headed to the ruins.  It was still early, around 9:00 a.m., I think, so the sunlight was really beautiful, and there was dew on the grass, and it was such a tranquil place.  We walked around for an hour or two admiring the ruins, which were absolutely fascinating.  We also chatted for a bit with one of the security guards, who showed us to the wine cellar/pantry of the ruins, a little underground room that I'm not sure everybody is allowed to go in.  It was really cool.

Seriously annoyed that rotating photos is apparently not possible...


The view from inside the pantry/wine cellar
We left the ruins and rode through the town to Horacio Quiroga's house.  We read "El hombre muerto" in a Spanish class last year and figured, why not check out the author's house?  I am so glad we did.  It was really interesting and I love walking around knowing that someone famous/important/cool once walked/lived in this place.  I actually felt like I was walking through one of his stories, since the one we had read was about the land where he lived.  Here's the view from his backyard, which in itself explains (to me, at least) why he kept moving back to la selva even when his family wanted to go back to the city:

Seriously.  This was his backyard.

After Horacio Quiroga's house, we started on the trail to Teyu Cuare.  It was 8km, which Maria told me is about 6 miles or something...?  I am absolutely useless at estimating/visualizing distance, so I had no idea how far or how painful this ride was going to be.  We rode along the road for awhile before we even got to the trail leading to the park.  This trail was the typical red dirt of Misiones, and completely full of rocks and puddles.  There were times on this eternal trail that I wished I had accepted the ride in the back of a truck offered to me by random strangers.  I wanted to curl up into a puddle and lie there until some sort of animal carried me off into the wilderness.  I was in full-on whiny six-year-old mode, throwing a little tantrum inside my head.  Finally we got to the park rangers' station, where the ranger explained the trails to us.  We hiked up a sixty-degree incline of giant rocks and I continued to whimper...until we reached the vista points.  While we stood up there, looking out on THIS





I put the pain and hunger and irritation in the back of my mind.  I tried not to think about how awful the return trip would be.  We strolled down on the lower trail and ate snacks/lunch on the banks of the rio Parana, in the most beautiful sunlight.  Seriously, this was incredible.  We headed back up and ended up chatting with the park ranger for a long time about all sorts of things.  He gave us oranges and we talked about learning other languages.  It was really interesting.  Then he helped me fix my bike chain before we re-mounted those damn bicis and started the agonizing trek back into town.  As it turned out, the return trip was much easier and seemed much shorter.  Before I knew it we were in the tourism office returning the bikes and heading to the restaurant next door.  We ate, picked up our bags, said goodbye to our friend in the tourism office, and walked up the hill to the bus terminal, where we would board a bus that would, fifteen hours later, drop us in Rosario.  Stay tuned.  The final installment of this travel log is coming tomorrow.

Saturday, July 30, 2011

Destination 1: Iguazu

Last Thursday afternoon, around 5:15 p.m., Maria and I picked up our bags, locked our doors behind us and left the residence, certain we wouldn't return for at least seven days.  We caught a bus to Retiro Station, where we had to find the bus we would be on for eighteen hours en route to Puerto Iguazu.  Retiro is a madhouse.  It's a train station, a bus station, and a crazy sort of market.  There are people and buses everywhere; there are booths selling everything from chipas to cell phone covers to mates.  When we got there, we didn't even know which part was the bus station.  First we walked into the train station.  Then we continued down the lane of cheap trinkets and snacks until we finally saw a sign: "Terminal de Omnibus."  Up a ramp, down a hall, around a corner, and we were met with a big departures and arrivals board.  Unfortunately, we were an hour early, so our bus was not yet posted.  We sat and waited.  Pretty soon it was ten minutes to seven (our scheduled departure was 7:00 p.m.) and still we had no word on where our bus was.  Frantically, we ran around until we found the customer service/ticket sales window of the company (Crucero del Norte) and showed our tickets to the woman, asking her if there was some problem, if our bus was going to come soon.  It was 7:06.  With a shockingly bored expression, she told us to wait downstairs where we had already been waiting.  Our bus would be here in a few minutes.

We ended up departing at about 7:20.  I'm not sure why I was surprised to learn that the lax attitude toward punctuality extended to the transportation industry, but I was.  So we boarded our bus, found our seats, and settled in for a nice, long ride.  These buses are not like Greyhound buses.  And they're not like Bolt Bus, either.  Each seat is a big armchair that reclines fully.  You get a pillow and blanket.  You get meals.  They show movies.  It's like a plane, but with more legroom and cheaper tickets.  I legitimately enjoyed the eighteen hours we spent on that bus.

Friday afternoon, around 2:00 p.m., we arrived in Puerto Iguazu in the Misiones province of Argentina.  After some disoriented wandering, we found the local bus we needed to take to our hostel.  When we arrived at Hostel-Inn Iguazu, I was in awe.  The place looked like a resort: a big, beautiful pool out front surrounded by lounge chairs, a cabana bar.  We walked in and there were people milling about and music playing; it was a party.  The whole place was just a party.  We checked in and planned out excursions for the following day at the park, then went down to our room.  That first night we met some girls from England who were finishing up a six-month tour of South America and not at all eager to be leaving.  Maria and I agreed we couldn't fathom six months of solid traveling, without some sort of home base.  We went into town for dinner, at a parrilla, where I enjoyed yet another amazing steak.  We headed back to the hostel and went to bed early so we could get to the park and see the falls in the morning.





For a week now I've been trying to put my experience with the falls into words.  I was awestruck, speechless, blown away.  There are hundreds of individual falls in this park, and each one just shocks you.  We walked the upper trail and the lower trail, then we went out in a boat on an "approach to the falls" excursion, where we got entirely soaked.  It was incredible.  After that, we found a sunny place to eat lunch and dry off.  Except the coaties (somewhere between a raccoon and an anteater) stole my sandwich.  Bastards.  Seriously, these animals have no fear.  It's probably because everyone thinks they're adorable and feeds them all the time.  They were cute when I first saw them, but it didn't take long for me to change my mind.  After lunch we took the train up to the other end of the park to see the unfathomable Garganta del Diablo.  This is basically the main attraction in Iguazu.  It's the biggest of the falls, the most powerful and terrifying.  We stood on a platform right on the edge-- everywhere in this park, you can stand so close to the falls it's actually a little unnerving.  For the next few nights I had dreams about falling or dropping things over the rails. 




We marveled at Garganta del Diablo for as long as possible, which was difficult with everybody shoving toward the front and throwing elbows.  Afterward we took another boat ride, this one a more peaceful excursion called the Paseo Ecológico.  There was a small group of us on this boat, with a guide paddling us through the river.  We saw crocodiles, flowers, birds-- it was so relaxing and a perfect way to finish the day.  If you're ever in Iguazu I recommend exactly what we did: Upper Trail, Lower Trail, Approach to the Falls, Garganta del Diablo, Paseo Ecológico.  In that order.  It was excellent.

That night we were hungry early and went back into town to find a restaurant.  There were several nice places, but we didn't really feel like spending too much, and we came across a place called Colors where the owner offered us 10% off if we paid in cash.  The food looked good, and the deal sounded good, so we went in.  It ended up being a very strange experience.  I still can't quite put my finger on it, but I was just incredibly uncomfortable the whole time.  The whole town felt like a tourist trap, like all of the businesses were working together to get you to spend money.  And, I mean, yeah, that's what they want you to do, obviously.  But it was creepy.  I felt like prey.  So when we couldn't find the bar for which we had received a free drink coupon, we weren't too upset.  We headed back to the hostel, pretty early again, because we had to get up the next day to get our bus to Wanda.

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Numbers

Today I returned to Buenos Aires after our first big trip.  I've got to let it all sink in for a bit before I can recount it here, but here are some bullet points...

  • Days away from Bs As: 6
  • Nights in hostels: 4
  • Nights on buses: 2
  • Different hostels stayed in: 3
  • Hours spent on buses: 41?
  • Kilometers biked: +/- 8
  • Dollars spent: ...don't really want to think about that one...
  • Incredible meals eaten: 3
  • Interesting people met in hostels: upwards of 10
  • Park rangers befriended: 1
  • Lunches stolen by coaties: 1
  • Photos taken: 200+
I'm going to elaborate on all of this.  Just not tonight.