Not sure if you all know the story, but before the Supreme Court is a very important case regarding free speech in schools. The swing of the court in recent years has been towards school censorship, all but denying high school students and younger their first amendment rights.
The CNN article can be seen here. http://www.cnn.com/2007/LAW/03/19/free.speech/index.html?eref=rss_topstories
Justice Ginsburg remarked that, "One can look at these words and say it's just nonsense. It isn't clear that this is 'Smoke Pot.' " The observation is obvious, and it isn't an epiphany. However, what I think she was trying to do is draw the line between what should be censored and what should not. If we start censoring students for the stupid jokes they pull, then we are trying to mold the sense of humor of a new generation. What a 50 year old administrator finds funny is obviously not the same as what a teenager enjoys. The kids love Dane Cook, not Jackie Mason. Let them be stupid.
Anyway, I've been quite lazy. With the blog. Not sure why, I've had very little to do in the way of responsibilities. Parents have departed and since then I've adopted a regimen of gym, reading, writing, and going out.
I've got my running legs and lifting arms back. For a while I thought I had lost them, but a good week of self-abuse has put me in line. Gym fee here is 60 pesos, or under 20 dollars. Pretty sweet considering they have all the equipment I need. Sure, it lacks free towels, a water fountain, air conditioning, and proper lighting, but 20 dollars! Thats like a day in one of America's super-luxurious supergyms. I take a towel and water bottle from home, go shirtless, and shine a flashlight over myself and its the same thing.
I finished reading "In Cold Blood" by Truman Capote. Fun book. The man could write, I highly recommend the book. For now I've steered towards Argentine writers, or the Argentine writer, Jorge Louis Borges. Its philosophy, so its not an easy read like Nabokov was earlier this year, but its quite interesting. I just finished a story about an encylopedia of an imaginary planet with its own philosophies, language, and reality. It was created by humans to be deciphered by humans. The language was kind of fun because there was no nouns, so the moon was called floating sky-high shiner or something. Made my head hurt.
Writing has been going slow, but coming along. I've started creating outlines and characters for a novel I'll eventually never write. Keeps me occupied. Also went into some tangent on socialist vs. capitalist families. I'll refine it and post it. I've also decided my main character isn't a dairy fan but enjoys yodels and Manhattans. What a freak.
I've managed to become quite proficient in going out. My second home has become Jessica's place on Austria. She finishes work early and I'm usually bored so I go over and bother her. We cook occasionally and I third wheel when Ignacio is around. All good times though. This Thursday we have plans to do a Mexican Fiesta. In Argentina, I know, weird, but gringos need some spicy food.
The weekend after my parents left was slow (as was the week, I did a lot of couch lying). Friday I movied it up with Eliza (saw blood diamond, good movie) and Saturday I hung out with Catherine, then ran into Jon (amanda's roomie) and his friends Erol and Mary. We ended up going back to Jon/Amanda's place (sans amanda) and hung out with some Cordobese chicks. I love the Cordoba accent a lot. In fact, the la rubia de doritos is from Cordoba, and I can't get enough of that commercial(see facebook profile).
The following week Eliza threw a lovely dinner party with amazing Sangria (we finished 5 liters between 4) and cous cous with veggies and a great sauce. It was a pleasant surprise. Then we flew off to some random pizza bar in Belgrano and were treated to a live band with her flatmate Spider on percussion. Fun night.
Friday was Parilla night with Martin and Federico, along with the former's girlfriend, their cousin, his girlfriend, their mom, and my grandma. Oh, also the chocolate lab Ramiro. He was fun. Food was good, company was good, and I got a nice buzz from the wine. We played some pool and ping pong, in which I was pummeled.
Saturday, I had lunch with Amanda and her mom (they just got back from Chile to BA cruise) and then we went out late late. Met up with her roomy, then my argentine friends, then split up, then went to Mint. Mint is a huge club near the coast with two music rooms. Was fun, but the music was easily the worst club music I've ever heard. Whitney Houston over a techno beat is never, ever good. We tried to escape round 5ish but it took forever to find a cab. Mosquito's biting us everywhere and the sun quickly rising behind us we made a break for another road and were able to find a cab. By 6:30 am we were able to find a place (no waffles though :() and had some media lunas and a coffee. I crashed on the futon, which was actually pretty sweet since I typically sleep on a twin mattress. I hate twins.
This past week I headed to Kansas with Ignacio, Jessica and Eliza. Kansas is like a cheesecake factory like place in Argentina. Only people get seriously dressed up and treat it like its a really nice place. Food was good, beer was good, and they had the typical spinach cheese dip with the chips, which actually hit the spot. Funny thing is we ordered the creamed spinach too, and well, it was the same exact thing. Also had lovely tea that night which was scented with cacao and whiskey. YUM.
Friday I had dinner with some local family and their cute cute baby. Cheeks weren't fat enough to bite, but still damn cute.
Saturday was St. Paty's, so I drank a few drinks, starting at 3 pm. Catherine planned an ambitious 8 pub crawl, and we proudly hit 4 or 5. The staples were hit throughout, Zapi for pizza, Volta for Ice Cream, and then mint for more clubbing. Also had some AMAZING street food on the way home. A sandwich with some type of meat, fried onions, fried egg, and french bun. Totally hit the spot.
No hangover sunday, but it was slow. Napped on the couch and watched random things such as the OC, Resident Evil 2, and I think Gilmore Girls, but i swear it was by accident.
Tonight third time was a charm. We finally made it to Bi Won, a Korean restaurant in Once, and had a delicious meal. The first time we went there we arrived to late (koreans eat early here, maybe) and the second time they were closed for vacation. This time, I called 3 times to confirm they'd be open, and sure enough they were when we arrived. The stone bowl with rice and stuff in it reallllly hit the spot. So did the Kim Chi.
Alright, thats a good solid update. I'll have more for you soon.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Here's the beef
Ruth Bader Ginsburg and the other 8 judges have begun the new years session and have started tackling the agenda. HOW EXCITING. More to come.
I left off from Calafate and headed back home to Buenos Aires for a few days.
Little interruption, I think i'm staring at Miss Argentina right now as I right this in the hotel lobby of the Costa Galana. She wants me.
Back to Mar del Plata (MdP) and a brief history lesson. You won't find any tourism guides that urge you to go to MdP because there is nothing truly amazing about it. The beaches are pleasant but not beautiful. There are no thirlling sights to see, no natural wonders, nor museums that require a viewing once in a lifetime. MdP is close to Buenos Aires (4 hours by car), and its the sort of place Argentines go to vacation for a few days, weeks, or months during the summer.
Its off the beaten path for foreign tourists, and in a way, that is what made MdP pleasant for me this time around. Take all the people and culture of Buenos Aires and move it to a secluded location away from the influence of foreign tourists and corporations and I got to see an undisturbed part of the culture I couldn't get in BA.
In MdP, everyone speaks spanish. Those restaurants that have english menus translate them so poorly it becomes comical. "Bowels" was a translation for chinculines, or what we call tripe. Other than the geriatrics and us Americans, no one ate dinner before 11pm and it wasn't unusual to catch a few diners commencing their meal at 1 am. Partying didn't start till well into the night. In BA you can enter a bar with some life before midnight. In MdP, the bars were empty at 1 am, and wouldn't begin to fill till 3.
Shops took a siesta from 1:30pm to 4pm and stayed open later. Alfajore shops lined streets as if they were Starbucks' sketchy little cousin. The European architecture showed the results of multiple economic slumps. MdP used to be the playground of the rich, but through changes in the government, corruption, and the downfall of a wealthy class it has become a city for the common folk.
Not the most exciting city in the world, but again, its very argentine. Unfortunately, our first full day there was a quite a Quilombo. Rain, and nothing but the rain. A lovely breakfast, didn't to much to disperse the sense of impending boredom a rainy day in MdP would bring. The fam also wasn't too happy with me because I screwed up with the restaurant the previous night (never goto a place called Oceanside... even on long island). They'll get over it. An hour at the gym and a lil idle chit chat led us to dinner at 9 at perhaps my favorite restaurant in the world, "El Palacio del Bife".
Yes, its a palace of the beef. For a beef supremacist like myself, this is my temple, the parrillero my priest, and the meat chilling out around the parilla my collective god. Blasphemy aside, this place is really good. Its been around for as long as I can remember... and the restaurant itself remembers me. I've been going there ever since I could chew. One of my distinct memories as a child was dragging my wooden chair to the front of the grill and climbing on top to watch the parrillero turn white and red into brown and delicious. I'd stare intently with my telescopic glasses and just be content watching them go. When I returned 3 years earlier, the parillero, NAME PLEASE, even remembered me as he was then an apprentince at el Palacio.
Anyway, this time around (actually two times, yes, its that good) I asked questions and stared yet again, this times with a different lens. You can see the pictures at.....
The parilla was split into two sides. The apprentice took the Achuras(morcilla, chorizo, chinculines, mollejas, rincon, and all other organ or non-beef products) as well as the proveleta(whole grilled provolone cheese) and any chicken or brochettes. Sounds like a lot, but the toughest work is done on the meat side, which my buddy has strict control over.
The bife gran palacio, which can be seen at my google picasa site http://picasaweb.google.com/danizylberberg/PalacioDelBife, along with other bife shots, was fuckin huge. It was also delicious. Highly recomneded. Might be worth the trip alone to Argentina and MdP.
Anyway, I'll elaborate on the meal when i FINALLY do my restaurant reviews. I have notes of course.
One of those nights, I forget which, my brother got involved in a Quilombo of his own. The 8 of us, the two fams, where waiting for cabs. There was also another family who later seemed to request a cab too, or so it seemed. Anyway, a green car pulled up, perhaps a fiat or one of those crappy european cars and a man in a white shirt exited. As this family, who was clearly behind us in line for a cab, walked up to the car, my brother decended upon them like an Eagle. His talons was his voice, screaming, "Monica, MONICA," the name for which we gave to the cab company.
Little did bro know, that this car was not a cab, but actually THEIR car. After seeing the lack of cabbage in the area, they decided to take their own car out that night. So the disturbed, and perhaps traumitized family, could only think that this crazy American was trying to hijack their car.
After we wooed him back and told him it was not their car, they got in, distraught, and drove away. Our cab came 5 minutes later. It was not green.
Anyway, I gained a better appreciation for Mar Del Plata this time around. I always hated it because, its not that great a beach town. But it is an Argentine beach town, and it distills argentine culture in a way BA cannot. Def worth a visit if you want to gain perspective on the porteno culture.
I left off from Calafate and headed back home to Buenos Aires for a few days.
- Bought some shoes
- Stepped on a nail, it bled
- Ate an amazing dinner at la Rosa Negra
- Went out with mix of argentine and american friends... got buzzed, rode around, had lots of laughs.
- Then, we flew to Mar Del Plata
Little interruption, I think i'm staring at Miss Argentina right now as I right this in the hotel lobby of the Costa Galana. She wants me.
Back to Mar del Plata (MdP) and a brief history lesson. You won't find any tourism guides that urge you to go to MdP because there is nothing truly amazing about it. The beaches are pleasant but not beautiful. There are no thirlling sights to see, no natural wonders, nor museums that require a viewing once in a lifetime. MdP is close to Buenos Aires (4 hours by car), and its the sort of place Argentines go to vacation for a few days, weeks, or months during the summer.
Its off the beaten path for foreign tourists, and in a way, that is what made MdP pleasant for me this time around. Take all the people and culture of Buenos Aires and move it to a secluded location away from the influence of foreign tourists and corporations and I got to see an undisturbed part of the culture I couldn't get in BA.
In MdP, everyone speaks spanish. Those restaurants that have english menus translate them so poorly it becomes comical. "Bowels" was a translation for chinculines, or what we call tripe. Other than the geriatrics and us Americans, no one ate dinner before 11pm and it wasn't unusual to catch a few diners commencing their meal at 1 am. Partying didn't start till well into the night. In BA you can enter a bar with some life before midnight. In MdP, the bars were empty at 1 am, and wouldn't begin to fill till 3.
Shops took a siesta from 1:30pm to 4pm and stayed open later. Alfajore shops lined streets as if they were Starbucks' sketchy little cousin. The European architecture showed the results of multiple economic slumps. MdP used to be the playground of the rich, but through changes in the government, corruption, and the downfall of a wealthy class it has become a city for the common folk.
Not the most exciting city in the world, but again, its very argentine. Unfortunately, our first full day there was a quite a Quilombo. Rain, and nothing but the rain. A lovely breakfast, didn't to much to disperse the sense of impending boredom a rainy day in MdP would bring. The fam also wasn't too happy with me because I screwed up with the restaurant the previous night (never goto a place called Oceanside... even on long island). They'll get over it. An hour at the gym and a lil idle chit chat led us to dinner at 9 at perhaps my favorite restaurant in the world, "El Palacio del Bife".
Yes, its a palace of the beef. For a beef supremacist like myself, this is my temple, the parrillero my priest, and the meat chilling out around the parilla my collective god. Blasphemy aside, this place is really good. Its been around for as long as I can remember... and the restaurant itself remembers me. I've been going there ever since I could chew. One of my distinct memories as a child was dragging my wooden chair to the front of the grill and climbing on top to watch the parrillero turn white and red into brown and delicious. I'd stare intently with my telescopic glasses and just be content watching them go. When I returned 3 years earlier, the parillero, NAME PLEASE, even remembered me as he was then an apprentince at el Palacio.
Anyway, this time around (actually two times, yes, its that good) I asked questions and stared yet again, this times with a different lens. You can see the pictures at.....
The parilla was split into two sides. The apprentice took the Achuras(morcilla, chorizo, chinculines, mollejas, rincon, and all other organ or non-beef products) as well as the proveleta(whole grilled provolone cheese) and any chicken or brochettes. Sounds like a lot, but the toughest work is done on the meat side, which my buddy has strict control over.
The bife gran palacio, which can be seen at my google picasa site http://picasaweb.google.com/danizylberberg/PalacioDelBife, along with other bife shots, was fuckin huge. It was also delicious. Highly recomneded. Might be worth the trip alone to Argentina and MdP.
Anyway, I'll elaborate on the meal when i FINALLY do my restaurant reviews. I have notes of course.
One of those nights, I forget which, my brother got involved in a Quilombo of his own. The 8 of us, the two fams, where waiting for cabs. There was also another family who later seemed to request a cab too, or so it seemed. Anyway, a green car pulled up, perhaps a fiat or one of those crappy european cars and a man in a white shirt exited. As this family, who was clearly behind us in line for a cab, walked up to the car, my brother decended upon them like an Eagle. His talons was his voice, screaming, "Monica, MONICA," the name for which we gave to the cab company.
Little did bro know, that this car was not a cab, but actually THEIR car. After seeing the lack of cabbage in the area, they decided to take their own car out that night. So the disturbed, and perhaps traumitized family, could only think that this crazy American was trying to hijack their car.
After we wooed him back and told him it was not their car, they got in, distraught, and drove away. Our cab came 5 minutes later. It was not green.
Anyway, I gained a better appreciation for Mar Del Plata this time around. I always hated it because, its not that great a beach town. But it is an Argentine beach town, and it distills argentine culture in a way BA cannot. Def worth a visit if you want to gain perspective on the porteno culture.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Ice breakers on a glacier
In reading a little about the honorable Justice Ginsburg, I read a case called Roper v. Simmons, in where it was decided that the constitution does not allow the execution of people who committed crimes before they turned 18. The interesting thing is that Ginsburg and the majority opinion used foreign sources to make the decision, which was criticized by many republicans. Being in Argentina and traveling round the world, I see that we as Americans do a lot of things right... but we don't do it all right. Some Americans think our constitution should not be subject to the opinions or behaviors of foreign nations. Some Americans are also arrogant. The choice by the majority opinion is a good sign that our government isn't blind to the world, and knows that there is a lot to learn from it.
A very tranquil week came to an insane end last Friday. The remaining family and friends joined the fray in Buenos Aires and life as a relaxed student came to a much needed end. I was too set into a routine, drowning down mates wasting the day away staring into the open sun, preparing for a delicious dinner and a long night out.
I still do all those things, minus the staring. Friday was hectic. After a late Thursday I woke up with 4 hours of sleep, showered, slapped on my 3/4 pants, a pink shirt, argentine crocs, and my big ass sunglasses and headed to the hotel were I was to meet my father paul, my brother jon, as well as our friends Guy, Susan, Darren and Melissa (in descending age order I believe). We met at the hotel, checked them into a dingy apartment style room, and went off to eat. A local stop sustained me with a bife de chorizo and salad, as well as a glass of malbec. Nothing special, but a great preparation for the day ahead.
We headed back home and relaxed for a bit as my father and brother took much needed naps. I entertained myself with my camera and went around photographing my sleeping sibling and father. Sleepy people appear funny on photographs.
Afterwards, we went to a restaurant called La Cabrera Norte (La Cabrera was full, but this was its sister and as good). There we met up with federico's mother, brother and his girlfriend, Virginia, Martin and Virginia. I know, kinda weird to be dating a girl with your mother's same name... Freud is probably experiencing some transference in his grave. We had some fun and it had been a long time since I spoke with Martin. Now that I could actually speak his language it was nice getting to know him. A LOT different than his brother... sort of like I am with mine.
Jon did something amazing and ate steak. The boy eats nothing but chicken cutlet, bagels, and pizza so this was a big move for him. Gonna be disappointing though when he goes back to the states and has that shit we call beef.
Afterwards, the plush's went to bed and I met up with Jessica and Ignacio. Martin drove us along with my broheem to my fav bar, Acabar, which again means to finish, sexually. I explained this to my parents at dinner, in spanish no less. They called me drunk. They were right.
Back on track, we went to Acabar to find it was filled to the brim. Instead, we went to some other place till Federico gave us a call. We met up with him and his friend "Humshuh", nicknamed for his social inabilities. He may have been a looser, but his place in Palermo was pretty sweet and full of alcohol. The four of us, along with fed and diego headed to a club called Kays.
After a drunken ride, we arrived at the Boliche (or club) and proceeded to wait in line. Jess and Ignacio decided to head out early and we arrived inside the club at about 2:45 am. When I said earlier that the party doesn't start till late, I wasn't bullshitting. There was people there, but it didn't start filling up till 3:30, and the massive, bone shaking bass didn't commence till about 4. We met up with some of Diego's nice lookin argentine friends and the party started. I danced terribly, but had a good time, so did my Bro. The drugs were certainly in the air... the smell of dank weed was one clue. But more importantly, you can tell that there were a lot of e-poppin punks lining the walls of this boliche. The massive hint? Sales of water skyrocketed as the night went. I'm not a huge club goer, but I've been to a few, and I've never seen so much water consumed in such shorts amount of time by the same people.
The sweets part of the boliche was its proximity to the coast. It was on the coast in fact. The sunrise for which I'm always a sucker for was sweet and the fun ended at 7 am because my brother was understandably tired.
After a 4 hour nap, i woke up and headed out to meet the fam and friends at Galleria Pacifico. There I saw some shops, saw a drunk guy scream in broken english, and enjoyed the pain of a rasaco. At night we ate another fine meal at Cabana Las Lilas and I went to BED.
The following day we headed to Calafate, for what would be an amazing trip. The flight there was delayed (the flight into BA was delayed, both flights to and from Calafate were delayed, and my flight to Mar Del Plata was delayed as well, I call it a theme). Whoever, we arrived and set ourselves up in a Hotel called Design, which was very nice, but not incredibly designed... irony.
We went to a restaurant in Calafate and I got some Cordero Patagonico (patagonian lamb) and it was fucking delicious. Tender, moist, and crunchy on the skin. Its made by cutting and gutting a lamb in half and then roasting it over an open fire. SOOO GOOOD.
The following day we woke up way to early and headed to a glacier called Perito Moreno. Its one of the only remaining glaciers in patagonia that isn't receding. We took a cab to the bus stop, a bus to the boat stop, and a boat to the foot of the glacier. After a quick hike we arrived at the glacier.
Its tough to describe the sheer size and beauty of the glacier. Purity is certainly one of the words, as the glacier represented some of the most undisturbed nature I've ever seen. The thing was so massive and so giant that a few of us humans did little to cause any problems. There was no trash, no cars, and no power lines.
I posted some pictures on my google thingie, http://picasaweb.google.com/danizylberberg/Calafate. You can just look at them all and see the crystal clear streams that formed in the glacier. The cracks and crevices (our guide pronounced it creVAHHHSS) formed cooool shapes as well as little potable pools of water. And i got to walk on all of it and explore (only a little). We had these spikes on our shoes to walk along the glacier and they helped keep our traction. After this, I have a strong desire to do some ice climbing. Its not too difficult, but amazing and incredibly satisifying. The crunch of slippery ice beneath your feet and the traction you get from the spikes gives you a feeling of ironically strong control.
After a long long hike through the glaciers we got a wonderful surprise. I didn't think the day could get better, but then it did. We walked up to a flat part of the glacier with tables and glasses topped with tumblers, bowls, and 2 bottles of scotch. Our guide took out his pick, shaved some ice into his bowl, then threw crystal clear glacier ice into the group of glasses. Next came the whiskey. I requested a doble and they obliged. The scotch itself might have been just some generic brand, but the glacier ice and the situation elevated it to pure deliciousness. I couldn't have been happier.
That night we had more amazing lamb, roasted int he same way at a restaurant called La Tablita. That cordero patagonico is really something else.
The following day we went on boats to visit the rest of the glaciers and take a hike. A larger boat guided us through the Leche Glacieral, also known as Glacier Milk. The story is as the glacier scrapes against the sides of the lake, it causes minearls to suspend in the water and give it a milk, silvery color. The water is opaque, and I thought I would get some for dairy loving treestump, but unfortunately drinking glacier milk gives you a case of explosive diarrhea. Sorry bud.
The trip around the glaciers was lots of fun, and we got some great views as well as some great pictures. I'll post a lot more soon! I went with the 28-135mm lens while my friend melissa had a 17-75mm lens, so she got some better wide angle shots while I got the close ups.
The following day, our delayed flight departed and we headed back to BA.
El Calafate is el bomb.
A very tranquil week came to an insane end last Friday. The remaining family and friends joined the fray in Buenos Aires and life as a relaxed student came to a much needed end. I was too set into a routine, drowning down mates wasting the day away staring into the open sun, preparing for a delicious dinner and a long night out.
I still do all those things, minus the staring. Friday was hectic. After a late Thursday I woke up with 4 hours of sleep, showered, slapped on my 3/4 pants, a pink shirt, argentine crocs, and my big ass sunglasses and headed to the hotel were I was to meet my father paul, my brother jon, as well as our friends Guy, Susan, Darren and Melissa (in descending age order I believe). We met at the hotel, checked them into a dingy apartment style room, and went off to eat. A local stop sustained me with a bife de chorizo and salad, as well as a glass of malbec. Nothing special, but a great preparation for the day ahead.
We headed back home and relaxed for a bit as my father and brother took much needed naps. I entertained myself with my camera and went around photographing my sleeping sibling and father. Sleepy people appear funny on photographs.
Afterwards, we went to a restaurant called La Cabrera Norte (La Cabrera was full, but this was its sister and as good). There we met up with federico's mother, brother and his girlfriend, Virginia, Martin and Virginia. I know, kinda weird to be dating a girl with your mother's same name... Freud is probably experiencing some transference in his grave. We had some fun and it had been a long time since I spoke with Martin. Now that I could actually speak his language it was nice getting to know him. A LOT different than his brother... sort of like I am with mine.
Jon did something amazing and ate steak. The boy eats nothing but chicken cutlet, bagels, and pizza so this was a big move for him. Gonna be disappointing though when he goes back to the states and has that shit we call beef.
Afterwards, the plush's went to bed and I met up with Jessica and Ignacio. Martin drove us along with my broheem to my fav bar, Acabar, which again means to finish, sexually. I explained this to my parents at dinner, in spanish no less. They called me drunk. They were right.
Back on track, we went to Acabar to find it was filled to the brim. Instead, we went to some other place till Federico gave us a call. We met up with him and his friend "Humshuh", nicknamed for his social inabilities. He may have been a looser, but his place in Palermo was pretty sweet and full of alcohol. The four of us, along with fed and diego headed to a club called Kays.
After a drunken ride, we arrived at the Boliche (or club) and proceeded to wait in line. Jess and Ignacio decided to head out early and we arrived inside the club at about 2:45 am. When I said earlier that the party doesn't start till late, I wasn't bullshitting. There was people there, but it didn't start filling up till 3:30, and the massive, bone shaking bass didn't commence till about 4. We met up with some of Diego's nice lookin argentine friends and the party started. I danced terribly, but had a good time, so did my Bro. The drugs were certainly in the air... the smell of dank weed was one clue. But more importantly, you can tell that there were a lot of e-poppin punks lining the walls of this boliche. The massive hint? Sales of water skyrocketed as the night went. I'm not a huge club goer, but I've been to a few, and I've never seen so much water consumed in such shorts amount of time by the same people.
The sweets part of the boliche was its proximity to the coast. It was on the coast in fact. The sunrise for which I'm always a sucker for was sweet and the fun ended at 7 am because my brother was understandably tired.
After a 4 hour nap, i woke up and headed out to meet the fam and friends at Galleria Pacifico. There I saw some shops, saw a drunk guy scream in broken english, and enjoyed the pain of a rasaco. At night we ate another fine meal at Cabana Las Lilas and I went to BED.
The following day we headed to Calafate, for what would be an amazing trip. The flight there was delayed (the flight into BA was delayed, both flights to and from Calafate were delayed, and my flight to Mar Del Plata was delayed as well, I call it a theme). Whoever, we arrived and set ourselves up in a Hotel called Design, which was very nice, but not incredibly designed... irony.
We went to a restaurant in Calafate and I got some Cordero Patagonico (patagonian lamb) and it was fucking delicious. Tender, moist, and crunchy on the skin. Its made by cutting and gutting a lamb in half and then roasting it over an open fire. SOOO GOOOD.
The following day we woke up way to early and headed to a glacier called Perito Moreno. Its one of the only remaining glaciers in patagonia that isn't receding. We took a cab to the bus stop, a bus to the boat stop, and a boat to the foot of the glacier. After a quick hike we arrived at the glacier.
Its tough to describe the sheer size and beauty of the glacier. Purity is certainly one of the words, as the glacier represented some of the most undisturbed nature I've ever seen. The thing was so massive and so giant that a few of us humans did little to cause any problems. There was no trash, no cars, and no power lines.
I posted some pictures on my google thingie, http://picasaweb.google.com/danizylberberg/Calafate. You can just look at them all and see the crystal clear streams that formed in the glacier. The cracks and crevices (our guide pronounced it creVAHHHSS) formed cooool shapes as well as little potable pools of water. And i got to walk on all of it and explore (only a little). We had these spikes on our shoes to walk along the glacier and they helped keep our traction. After this, I have a strong desire to do some ice climbing. Its not too difficult, but amazing and incredibly satisifying. The crunch of slippery ice beneath your feet and the traction you get from the spikes gives you a feeling of ironically strong control.
After a long long hike through the glaciers we got a wonderful surprise. I didn't think the day could get better, but then it did. We walked up to a flat part of the glacier with tables and glasses topped with tumblers, bowls, and 2 bottles of scotch. Our guide took out his pick, shaved some ice into his bowl, then threw crystal clear glacier ice into the group of glasses. Next came the whiskey. I requested a doble and they obliged. The scotch itself might have been just some generic brand, but the glacier ice and the situation elevated it to pure deliciousness. I couldn't have been happier.
That night we had more amazing lamb, roasted int he same way at a restaurant called La Tablita. That cordero patagonico is really something else.
The following day we went on boats to visit the rest of the glaciers and take a hike. A larger boat guided us through the Leche Glacieral, also known as Glacier Milk. The story is as the glacier scrapes against the sides of the lake, it causes minearls to suspend in the water and give it a milk, silvery color. The water is opaque, and I thought I would get some for dairy loving treestump, but unfortunately drinking glacier milk gives you a case of explosive diarrhea. Sorry bud.
The trip around the glaciers was lots of fun, and we got some great views as well as some great pictures. I'll post a lot more soon! I went with the 28-135mm lens while my friend melissa had a 17-75mm lens, so she got some better wide angle shots while I got the close ups.
The following day, our delayed flight departed and we headed back to BA.
El Calafate is el bomb.
Thursday, February 1, 2007
poor puppy
In a recent speech to students at Suffolk Law School, Justice Ginsburg mentioned that she "feels all alone on the court" after the departure of the only other female on the court Justice Sandra Day O´Conner. It is tough for me to really understand her sentiments, and many of you will probably say "Dani, you are the worst person to talk about women in the workplace." Perhaps you are right. What if the other 8 justices are like me, making inappropriate comments about whats inside their "briefs" or talking about the "habeus corpus on that one." A hostile workplace it might be!
But I wonder why Justice Ginsburg would go on and say this. A court that has lacked diversity since its inception has managed to protect it quite well. Having more women on the court would be a welcomed victory for females in our country, but I don´t believe it would improve the decisions of the court. After all, Justice should be blind and those large flowing black robes that leave plenty of room to the imagination end up desexualizing our judges.
Now that my obligation is outta the way, time for a STORY. I´m not sure why we never heard about this in the US, but it truly is something to remember.
In one of the barrios of BA, a dog somehow fell off the 13th floor of a building, fatally striking an unassuming woman in the street. That easily makes this story a comic tragedy of modest proportions... but the magnitude of this story borders epic.
A woman crossing the street saw the poor puppy plummet to its fate and did not notice the bus barreling towards her person. She was struck by the bus and dragged a few meters to her death. Sad, yes, but of course, it doesn´t stop there. A man who saw the whole event occur was overcome with whatever, and suffered a massive heart attack. He was pronounced dead on the way to the hospital!
The story left me stunned, but the entire article also added to my stupefication. No information was given about the deceased humans, how their families felt, or what they left behind. The dog received a lot of attention. Apparently the family loved it very much, and even had a large portrait of the dog placed above its mantel. Worst of all, while it could be assumed that the serial killer of a dog died, the article failed to mention this critical fact. STRANGE!
Life in general has been same old same old. I´ve become a beef supremacist, shunning vegetables, grains, and especially dairy products, the scapegoats of the food world (though I do miss scapegoat cheese, mmmmm). Been going out a few times a week, and I´m still seeing some beautiful sunrises.
My mother came in a few days ago and while its a welcomed change, the tranquility my grandmother and I once shared is all but gone. I wake up farther from noon, I achieve activity by lunchtime, and we´ve gone to dinner nightly till midnight. A temporary farwell to days of maté and fruit outside on the deck.
I went to the superbowl accompanied by amanda, catherine, and avery... all UBA students. We went to a bar which I´ll never fail to remember, The Alamo. It had been good to us up until the Saints lost two weeks ago. I unwisely vowed never to return. Breaking the vow was a good idea if just for the fun of feeling like an Estados Unidense for a day.
We ended up finding ourselves with a crew from NYU med school, a bachelor party, a bunch of students, and a few ingelses. The beer and volume were plentiful and so was the fun. We also casually glanced at the game now and then and tipsily taunted bear fans at the bar. I believe one bar leaning Chicago fan with a handlebar stache had a mind to flatten me with his truck driver arms, but I was able to escape with nothing more than a profane yelp. good times.
We´ve been to a few good restaurants over the past few days, and a few so so ones. I decided since I eat out so much, and to boost readership, I´m going to publish a seperate Argentine Food, Restaurant and Wine Blog. Look for it soon.
Other than that, I´ve been doing a fair share of shopping with my mother. At Galleria Pacifica I picked up some much needed sandals. The 2 year old Rainbows I have are still going strong, but smell so gnarly that I needed something to give em a break. What I found were a pair of sandals that are almost "croc-like" in their ugliness as well as their comfort! What makes them argentine is the fact they´re leather, and why not, fits in with my cow supremacy. The sole of the sandal is supportive, but very thin, so I feel all the imperfections and textures of the ground beneath my feet. Walking on rocks gives me accupunctural orgasms that I wouldn´t dare explain.
I also picked up a pair of 3/4 pants, which are really capri´s but it sounds less femenine if I say 3/4. Everyone wears them here, so its coo. I also picked up a pair of oversized sunglasses and a linen sports coat in my other ventures.
We also hit up Palermo Soho for a lunch and a walk around. Palermo Soho is sort of like New York´s Soho with trendy shops and restaurants as well as some strange shops too. My favorite was a soap shop that had unbelievable scents in it. Everything from Vanilla, to coconut, to gardenia, to marijuana scented soaps makes me want to visit them again, and perhaps even marry the cute soaponista that worked there. The best part of Palermo Soho is the absence of skyscrapers, giving this trendy little barrio a down to earth feel.
Tata for now.
But I wonder why Justice Ginsburg would go on and say this. A court that has lacked diversity since its inception has managed to protect it quite well. Having more women on the court would be a welcomed victory for females in our country, but I don´t believe it would improve the decisions of the court. After all, Justice should be blind and those large flowing black robes that leave plenty of room to the imagination end up desexualizing our judges.
Now that my obligation is outta the way, time for a STORY. I´m not sure why we never heard about this in the US, but it truly is something to remember.
In one of the barrios of BA, a dog somehow fell off the 13th floor of a building, fatally striking an unassuming woman in the street. That easily makes this story a comic tragedy of modest proportions... but the magnitude of this story borders epic.
A woman crossing the street saw the poor puppy plummet to its fate and did not notice the bus barreling towards her person. She was struck by the bus and dragged a few meters to her death. Sad, yes, but of course, it doesn´t stop there. A man who saw the whole event occur was overcome with whatever, and suffered a massive heart attack. He was pronounced dead on the way to the hospital!
The story left me stunned, but the entire article also added to my stupefication. No information was given about the deceased humans, how their families felt, or what they left behind. The dog received a lot of attention. Apparently the family loved it very much, and even had a large portrait of the dog placed above its mantel. Worst of all, while it could be assumed that the serial killer of a dog died, the article failed to mention this critical fact. STRANGE!
Life in general has been same old same old. I´ve become a beef supremacist, shunning vegetables, grains, and especially dairy products, the scapegoats of the food world (though I do miss scapegoat cheese, mmmmm). Been going out a few times a week, and I´m still seeing some beautiful sunrises.
My mother came in a few days ago and while its a welcomed change, the tranquility my grandmother and I once shared is all but gone. I wake up farther from noon, I achieve activity by lunchtime, and we´ve gone to dinner nightly till midnight. A temporary farwell to days of maté and fruit outside on the deck.
I went to the superbowl accompanied by amanda, catherine, and avery... all UBA students. We went to a bar which I´ll never fail to remember, The Alamo. It had been good to us up until the Saints lost two weeks ago. I unwisely vowed never to return. Breaking the vow was a good idea if just for the fun of feeling like an Estados Unidense for a day.
We ended up finding ourselves with a crew from NYU med school, a bachelor party, a bunch of students, and a few ingelses. The beer and volume were plentiful and so was the fun. We also casually glanced at the game now and then and tipsily taunted bear fans at the bar. I believe one bar leaning Chicago fan with a handlebar stache had a mind to flatten me with his truck driver arms, but I was able to escape with nothing more than a profane yelp. good times.
We´ve been to a few good restaurants over the past few days, and a few so so ones. I decided since I eat out so much, and to boost readership, I´m going to publish a seperate Argentine Food, Restaurant and Wine Blog. Look for it soon.
Other than that, I´ve been doing a fair share of shopping with my mother. At Galleria Pacifica I picked up some much needed sandals. The 2 year old Rainbows I have are still going strong, but smell so gnarly that I needed something to give em a break. What I found were a pair of sandals that are almost "croc-like" in their ugliness as well as their comfort! What makes them argentine is the fact they´re leather, and why not, fits in with my cow supremacy. The sole of the sandal is supportive, but very thin, so I feel all the imperfections and textures of the ground beneath my feet. Walking on rocks gives me accupunctural orgasms that I wouldn´t dare explain.
I also picked up a pair of 3/4 pants, which are really capri´s but it sounds less femenine if I say 3/4. Everyone wears them here, so its coo. I also picked up a pair of oversized sunglasses and a linen sports coat in my other ventures.
We also hit up Palermo Soho for a lunch and a walk around. Palermo Soho is sort of like New York´s Soho with trendy shops and restaurants as well as some strange shops too. My favorite was a soap shop that had unbelievable scents in it. Everything from Vanilla, to coconut, to gardenia, to marijuana scented soaps makes me want to visit them again, and perhaps even marry the cute soaponista that worked there. The best part of Palermo Soho is the absence of skyscrapers, giving this trendy little barrio a down to earth feel.
Tata for now.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Foto día 1
Well its photo day and gonna hafta start with a picture of Justice Ginsburg. This was her at the Jeff Lehman´s inauguration (whatever happened to him?). I remember being quite far from the podium and never noticed the sweet top hat. Props to having some flair your Honor!
So here are a few pictures I´ve taken so far here.
These pictures were taken at some cool park with tons of graffiti. It didn´t seem to be an organized event, but rather just a bunch of random guys with drums, drumming along and having a good time. They even posed for me, it was nice.The next set of photos were taken in Montserrat, a part of town close to the center but very laid back. Che promotes the use of condoms... maybe thats why republicans hate them so much.
Here are a few pictures in front of the Casa Rosada. Its pink cuz of ox blood. Mmmm. I like that sculpture, methinks it Baroque.
Finally, these are pictures of madres de los desaparecidos, whose children (mostly related to the universities like the UBA as well as political opponents) were taken away, tortured and killed. They gather together every Thursday at the Plaza de Mayo to protest the event. They´re all about the same age and are supposedly anti-American (rumor has it we installed the dictatorship that executed this event, and its probably true). They are very political and spoke of how the new government is nullifying the immunity of officers who carried out the killings. They also seem to be very very socialist, probably like their children were.
Thats all folks... I wish the formatting could be a little better. I´ll work on that in the future.
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Disclaimer
So in my infinite wisdom, I decided that Justice Ginsberg would be a cute catch to get people to read my blog. Seems as if that move was mistaken. I´m not sure how or what motivated the call, but I was contacted by a representative of her honor´s whose name escapes me. Judging by the whiney pitch and the wisps of nasal air clawaing against my ear drum, I´ll go ahead and say it was a Saul Zintsman. The brevity of the conversation caused me some concern, and I was immediately ordered to cease and desist.
Another phone called followed Monday. Mr. Zintsman told me that the address of my blog was desired by her honor, but she didn´t have enough time to file. The fair Justice is internet savy and quickly discovered my blog and was distressed she had missed out on it. Mr. Zintsman continued that a background check of yours truly revealed that I was a fellow Cornell alum of Her Honor´s. Instead of pursuing the matter in her home court she decided instead to compromise. I am to dedicate a small portion of each blog to the Justice in exchange for the use of this address. Crisis averted.
That aside its been a fun couple of days. Saturday was somewhat relaxed and hectic at the same time. After a lovely lunch at Café Serena, a great little eatery yards from my apartment, I relaxed in the sun and continued reading about Humbert Humbert and his little nymph Lolita. Amazing novel. Then after a shower I dined with my grandma at another semi-local eatery, Sesto. Fried sweetbreads were, well, sweet,tender and satisfying while the Lomo al caballo (sort of a filet mignon with a fried egg on top) was top-notch. I´ll be there again with more people, so a thourough review will follow.
Sunday brought another splendid sunrise. I say splendid because it is actually quite beautiful to see a sunrise, but I’m also a bit sarcastic. As much fun as I have at night BA is not a place I see much of during the day. I’d say I’m nocturnal, but in reality I’m awake all the time. Algunos veces, I do get to sleep the typical 8 hours, but for the most part I do it 4 hour style and fortify myself with mate and espresso then lounge on my roof. I went out Saturday night with my argentine friends Federico, Diego, and Alejandro, or Mini-me, pancho, and puke as they are unrespectively called. Federico is short so that’s why he gets mini-mi, diego gets pancho (hot dog) for whatever reason, and Alejandro puked once so he gets the name puke. The latter of the names would never fly in the US, because a majority of minors have puked via alcohol inducement (oh Alex and his heavenly heaves).
Viewing the sun rise filled my heart and gave a sense of hope which can’t really be explained unless you experience it. The absence of last call here and the aggressiveness of the sun make for interesting days and nights. I suggest you all give it a try.
Sunday recovery was as fun. Met up at the Alamo with Amanda where all Americans in Argentina ate american food and watched the game. I passed on the burgers and viewed an unfortunate pummeling of New Orleans. Tear. We advanced to San Telmo after the game and enjoyed a spectacular meal at a clearly local place called Des Nivel. It was suggested by catherine, another UBA american student. Entradas included none other than two Argentine staples. Proveletta (grillled cheese, without the bread) and matambre rollado, a rolled meat product with egg, roasted vegetables, and argentine potato salad on the side. The offerings from the Parilla ended up stealing the show. I had a Asado de Tira, which is thinly cut bone in meat done on the grill. Salted to perfection with just the right amount of grease. Amanda had a bife de Lomo which was soft enough to cut with a fork. It melted on the mouth. Accompanied by some proper red wine, we had a delicious meal and actually saw Catherine on the way out. She practices what she preaches.
Service was sketchy on the other hand. Our waiter was prompt and to the point, but as I stood huddled against a table talking to some aquantences, a rather large oaf of a waiter decided to mow me down shoulder first. I managed to gain my equilibrium before tumbling, but I was not happy. The thought dwelled in me to reciprocate, but he was at least 2 meters tall and a good 30 stones to me 15, so I opted to leave. Overall, great restaurant, good prices. I say go there.
To cap off the night, I took a ride with a quiet but hilarious cabbie. We were speaking on and off, and at some point got onto the topic of girls ( I believe he was whistling at the girls in the car nearby). I mentioned I would like to get an argentine girl for myself, and he retored ¨No, ellos son nuestros¨. I suggested we make an exchange, and he cackled and said ¨Si, cambiamos 3 por 1¨. I soiled myself laughing.
Monday was not so interesting and a respectable relief from the wacky weekend. After a class that involved an argument on genetically modified foods I went home and jogged for a bit. My luxury-laden lungs did not respond so well to the stress but I managed a good 30 minutes. My grandma and I divided half of a popeye pizza (spinach minus the e. coli, i hope). Following that, we had some helado delivered to us by a silent cyclist whom I tipped 2 pesos. 3 flavors, Banana, some fruity rum, and dulce de leche. The banana was as it should be, a pale gray color, rich dense texture, and an increidble fresh banana scent. The dulce de leche was dense as well with a creamy caramelized flavor unique to argentine gelato. The rum flavor, a staple of my grandmother´s, didn´t please my pallate so I passed. I placed my two gustos on a small and crunchy cone and went to town on it. YUM YUM.
This gives me some time to talk about living with my grandma. I held no apprehension in moving in with her for my tenure here. I´ve lived with her before and I am familiar with her habits and vices. She is quiet, laughs at everything, cries over little things now and then, and enjoys doing household things. She serves me Maté, will cut up some fruit for me, will insist on doing dishes and laugh longly at almost all the jokes I make. Learning spanish with her around is very rewarding and I wouldn´t have done it any other way.
Perhaps the best quality of hers (roomate wise) could perhaps be considered a flaw. She can´t hear. She is not legally deaf (which makes me think those laws should change), but she needs a hearing aide, or as I now know very well in spanish, an audifono. Why is it a great quality? As my roomates will testify, I am a loud person at home. I like my music loud, I laugh loud, and I enjoy volume in all its glory. With her audifono out, I can be my audible self as long as I want, and it doesn´t bother her the slightest. Occasionaly, sans-audifono i do have to yell at her in spanish, but the flurry of frustration is balanced by the need for me to speak loudly and clearly in my new idiom, something I diffidently deny myself in other contexts.
Tuesday was a routine day except for a movie I saw with a group of UBAs. Babel. Great movie. The message was enlarged by the fact that all the subitltes were in Spanish. This unintentionally made the movie more difficult to follow idiomatically, but I´m going to go on record saying that its the only way it should be watched, in a language you don´t know as well.
Thats all for now folks. more to come.
Disclaimer: I completely and creatively made up those first two paragraphs. Deal with it.
Parents Disclaimer: All that you are reading is a work of fiction concocted by my creative cranium. As far as you know, I go to class everyday on time, and afterwards I go home, study, read and go to sleep. Not one drop of alcohol has touched my lips nor have I made any friends. They are figments of my imagination. If I were you, I would go as far as to believe I´m still home, in my lovely queen sized bed, sipping on port and enjoying the spoiled life. That will make this blog seem funny rather heart wrenching.
Another phone called followed Monday. Mr. Zintsman told me that the address of my blog was desired by her honor, but she didn´t have enough time to file. The fair Justice is internet savy and quickly discovered my blog and was distressed she had missed out on it. Mr. Zintsman continued that a background check of yours truly revealed that I was a fellow Cornell alum of Her Honor´s. Instead of pursuing the matter in her home court she decided instead to compromise. I am to dedicate a small portion of each blog to the Justice in exchange for the use of this address. Crisis averted.
That aside its been a fun couple of days. Saturday was somewhat relaxed and hectic at the same time. After a lovely lunch at Café Serena, a great little eatery yards from my apartment, I relaxed in the sun and continued reading about Humbert Humbert and his little nymph Lolita. Amazing novel. Then after a shower I dined with my grandma at another semi-local eatery, Sesto. Fried sweetbreads were, well, sweet,tender and satisfying while the Lomo al caballo (sort of a filet mignon with a fried egg on top) was top-notch. I´ll be there again with more people, so a thourough review will follow.
Sunday brought another splendid sunrise. I say splendid because it is actually quite beautiful to see a sunrise, but I’m also a bit sarcastic. As much fun as I have at night BA is not a place I see much of during the day. I’d say I’m nocturnal, but in reality I’m awake all the time. Algunos veces, I do get to sleep the typical 8 hours, but for the most part I do it 4 hour style and fortify myself with mate and espresso then lounge on my roof. I went out Saturday night with my argentine friends Federico, Diego, and Alejandro, or Mini-me, pancho, and puke as they are unrespectively called. Federico is short so that’s why he gets mini-mi, diego gets pancho (hot dog) for whatever reason, and Alejandro puked once so he gets the name puke. The latter of the names would never fly in the US, because a majority of minors have puked via alcohol inducement (oh Alex and his heavenly heaves).
Viewing the sun rise filled my heart and gave a sense of hope which can’t really be explained unless you experience it. The absence of last call here and the aggressiveness of the sun make for interesting days and nights. I suggest you all give it a try.
Sunday recovery was as fun. Met up at the Alamo with Amanda where all Americans in Argentina ate american food and watched the game. I passed on the burgers and viewed an unfortunate pummeling of New Orleans. Tear. We advanced to San Telmo after the game and enjoyed a spectacular meal at a clearly local place called Des Nivel. It was suggested by catherine, another UBA american student. Entradas included none other than two Argentine staples. Proveletta (grillled cheese, without the bread) and matambre rollado, a rolled meat product with egg, roasted vegetables, and argentine potato salad on the side. The offerings from the Parilla ended up stealing the show. I had a Asado de Tira, which is thinly cut bone in meat done on the grill. Salted to perfection with just the right amount of grease. Amanda had a bife de Lomo which was soft enough to cut with a fork. It melted on the mouth. Accompanied by some proper red wine, we had a delicious meal and actually saw Catherine on the way out. She practices what she preaches.
Service was sketchy on the other hand. Our waiter was prompt and to the point, but as I stood huddled against a table talking to some aquantences, a rather large oaf of a waiter decided to mow me down shoulder first. I managed to gain my equilibrium before tumbling, but I was not happy. The thought dwelled in me to reciprocate, but he was at least 2 meters tall and a good 30 stones to me 15, so I opted to leave. Overall, great restaurant, good prices. I say go there.
To cap off the night, I took a ride with a quiet but hilarious cabbie. We were speaking on and off, and at some point got onto the topic of girls ( I believe he was whistling at the girls in the car nearby). I mentioned I would like to get an argentine girl for myself, and he retored ¨No, ellos son nuestros¨. I suggested we make an exchange, and he cackled and said ¨Si, cambiamos 3 por 1¨. I soiled myself laughing.
Monday was not so interesting and a respectable relief from the wacky weekend. After a class that involved an argument on genetically modified foods I went home and jogged for a bit. My luxury-laden lungs did not respond so well to the stress but I managed a good 30 minutes. My grandma and I divided half of a popeye pizza (spinach minus the e. coli, i hope). Following that, we had some helado delivered to us by a silent cyclist whom I tipped 2 pesos. 3 flavors, Banana, some fruity rum, and dulce de leche. The banana was as it should be, a pale gray color, rich dense texture, and an increidble fresh banana scent. The dulce de leche was dense as well with a creamy caramelized flavor unique to argentine gelato. The rum flavor, a staple of my grandmother´s, didn´t please my pallate so I passed. I placed my two gustos on a small and crunchy cone and went to town on it. YUM YUM.
This gives me some time to talk about living with my grandma. I held no apprehension in moving in with her for my tenure here. I´ve lived with her before and I am familiar with her habits and vices. She is quiet, laughs at everything, cries over little things now and then, and enjoys doing household things. She serves me Maté, will cut up some fruit for me, will insist on doing dishes and laugh longly at almost all the jokes I make. Learning spanish with her around is very rewarding and I wouldn´t have done it any other way.
Perhaps the best quality of hers (roomate wise) could perhaps be considered a flaw. She can´t hear. She is not legally deaf (which makes me think those laws should change), but she needs a hearing aide, or as I now know very well in spanish, an audifono. Why is it a great quality? As my roomates will testify, I am a loud person at home. I like my music loud, I laugh loud, and I enjoy volume in all its glory. With her audifono out, I can be my audible self as long as I want, and it doesn´t bother her the slightest. Occasionaly, sans-audifono i do have to yell at her in spanish, but the flurry of frustration is balanced by the need for me to speak loudly and clearly in my new idiom, something I diffidently deny myself in other contexts.
Tuesday was a routine day except for a movie I saw with a group of UBAs. Babel. Great movie. The message was enlarged by the fact that all the subitltes were in Spanish. This unintentionally made the movie more difficult to follow idiomatically, but I´m going to go on record saying that its the only way it should be watched, in a language you don´t know as well.
Thats all for now folks. more to come.
Disclaimer: I completely and creatively made up those first two paragraphs. Deal with it.
Parents Disclaimer: All that you are reading is a work of fiction concocted by my creative cranium. As far as you know, I go to class everyday on time, and afterwards I go home, study, read and go to sleep. Not one drop of alcohol has touched my lips nor have I made any friends. They are figments of my imagination. If I were you, I would go as far as to believe I´m still home, in my lovely queen sized bed, sipping on port and enjoying the spoiled life. That will make this blog seem funny rather heart wrenching.
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Ummm, ¿hola?
Let me begin by saying a sincere sorry to the actual Ruth Bader Ginsburg. They allowed me to choose a url, and the first thing that came to mind was the honorable justice´s name. Justice Ginsburg, if you´re reading this and plan on starting a blog soon, we can arrange something.
Now that thats out of the way, its time to make an attempt to sum my life up for the past few months. In true hotelie fashion, I´ve decided to use bullet points in lieu of a ^Powerpoint plug in.
Now that thats out of the way, its time to make an attempt to sum my life up for the past few months. In true hotelie fashion, I´ve decided to use bullet points in lieu of a ^Powerpoint plug in.
- I came back from Calistoga (represent) and coasted for a bit till after thanksgiving.
- After la dia del pavo, I started searching for jobs in the wine biz, to keep that momentum going
- I decided that Boston is a pretty sweet place so I took a few trips there to find a job.
- In boston, I had interviews at a bar and a retail wine shop, as well as contacts in the distribution industry. By January I had one offer that I did not care to take. Have to pay the bills somehow.
- Crashed on Alex´s couch a lot, where I got to meet his deadbeat roomie as well as a gay stalker who lived downstairs. If I do move to boston, Brookline is out of the question.
- Got a job offer in New York with a sketchy wine shop uptown. The interview made me feel dirty, so I knew i´d hate that place.
- Gave up on jobs for a week and instead ordered a rolling rock quarter keg with kenny. Took us two weeks to complete, but it was an accomplishment.
- Skied a bit, freelanced for dad, and made a bit of cash.
- On Dec 28th, jokingly jabbered to my mother that I´d like to learn spanish in argentina. She said ok, I called her bluff, and January 3rd I was scheduled to leave.
- Flight was delayed but I got 18,000 bonus miles. Booya
- Arrived in Buenos Aires (now and forever, BA) on the 4th, ate at Aromi with grandmama, and slept in a familiar twin bed.
Bullet points rock.
Anyway, my first few weeks here have been pretty sweet. First few days I hung around with my grandma, registered for my class (nivel 4!) and was shown the way to class by my mothers friend´s son´s cousin, or Maximillien. I take the 80 bus (called a colleción here) to the subte Linea B, which I ride all the way downtown.
First day of class met a lot of fun people. I´m taking español para extranjeors, which is spanish for foreigners. Initially our class was comprised of 4 americans, 1 englishman, an australian, two swedes, a german, 2 frenchmen, two brazilians and an iranian. The following day saw a switch of 1 american for a frenchman, which diminished our domination. These things happen.
Class in general has been fun. The mix of opinions and experiences is quite amazing, and I couldn´t hope for a better mix of students all speaking an unfamiliar language but getting along. Makes me think if the world adopted a language no one really knows (Quechua, por ejemplo) we´d have less fighting. We talk about everything from religion, to machoness, to tango, to reparations (seriously) and transvestites. Almost always a blast.
I´ve also made some good american friends here so far. The first day in class I met a girl, Amanda, who is enrolled at UF. She expressed a desire to see the game and of course I wanted to see the BCS championship. We met at a place called the Alamo which proclaimed it was the only bar in BA that was playing the game and got away with chargin us 50 pesos a piece to enter. They did provide a freely flowing fountain of beer several times throughout the night, which mitigated the damage, but it still hurt. We got drunk, UF won, and I got to see a bunch of bummed out buckeyes. I ended up passing out on my couch and woke up with a lovely hangover. Good night.
My other good american friend is Jessica, who is a Brown alum here with her BA boyfriend, Ignacio. Along with amanda the four of us have been hanging out and taking in the city (mostly the drinking part of the city). For example, the other night we went to a place called Opera B, or something like that, but my rainbows were not proper dress attire, strange for such a casual city. After an attempted Bribe which the Bouncer claimed was ¨menos¨we went to a place in Palermo (a barrio in BA) called Acabar. At the time I thought it was just an innocent pun because Acabar means to Finish. But much to my delight it also means to finish, sexually. Clearly, I´ll have to start using the word a lot more. Drank lots there too!
One of my favorite activities is chatting with cabbies. If I go out to the center at night, it usually warrants a return trip with a cab, since subtes close at night. Usually is a 15 20 min ride by 4 am, so I get home fast. However in my drunken state any inhibition I house to speak the language disappears. We talk about a lot, how life has improved in BA, how Bush sucks, what wines are good, drug addictions and so on. Never fail to interst me. One of the cabbies that my family usually contracts also remembers Eric from when he drove us to the airport 4 years ago. Porteños have crazy memories about people, and he calls him the Chino (which isn´t racist). Didn´t mention Shiran though, even though your asian too, technically.
I´ve been hanging around a lot with my grandmother, and she couldn´t be happier. She´s very old fashion, so she doesn´t let me do much in the way of preparing food or cleaning up after myself. Can´t say I complain much, though I help around in other ways. We eat dinner together a few times a week, drink a lot of maté together, and watch this one japanese guy on the argentine food tv. The dude is roughly 20 stones, speaks spanish fluently, cuts with insane precision, and makes traditional japanese food you never see in the states.
I´ve also met up with my argentine friends from the past. Federico is a wild and crazy guy who is the son of my Mom´s best argentine friend, Virginia. The two go way back and have known each other for like 40 years... something I can´t begin to fathom. Anyway, the first night I went out with them we got drunk off wine filled penguins at a restaurant La Dorita. We had proveletta (straight grilled provolone cheese, crunchy on the outside, gooey on the inside, all around yum) as well as a mixture of meat. Federico is crazy funny and knows enough english to joke around with a bunch of words. We spoke spanish for the most part and I talked about my travels, he spoke of his travels, then about all the hot chicks in the restaurant, then about the wine, then more on hot chicks and so on. The kid had no shame. In the car we saw a voluptuous female cross in front, and, in front of his mother no less, commented on the curvature of her ass while banging on the window and howling. Its quite a common practice in BA, but he´s managed to take it to a different nivel.
This is getting pretty long but that sums up the last fortnight fairly.
As for last night, the Brazilians at the school decided to throw a party at their hostel with tons of meat, lots of music and lots of people. I had a blast, got drunk, recovered from my cold and best of all, I was able to be an asshole. On our way out I noticed a blasted brazillian passed out on the couch, shoes on. Using my quick wits, I swiped a black marker behind the hostel desk that smelled of paint and began to draw on his receding forehead, much to the protest of one of his friends. However, upon seeing the word penis drawn haphazardly, she insisted it looked like Japanese and implied I should draw it again, so I did. After a quick escape and a failed attempt to find another bar, I went home. This morning, after much scrubbing, the black marker I accidentally got on my hand is still here, so somewhere in BA, there is a poor soul with two penises on his face.
I´m too content right now, its terrifying.
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