My University

My summer in Argentina is over, but I still have a lot to say. Unfortunately while in Argentina I prioritized tango over spending time in front of computer screens contemplating my blog, so now I will try to lay out a few of the ideas, thoughts, and beliefs that I never presented.

First of all, I need to remind everyone (including myself) the reason that I went to Argentina: to take summer classes. My subconscious desire to dance tango that I encountered shortly after my arrival was lucky to have found the study abroad program that I did where I did: it was one of the few programs that not only included a language course but also two courses on politics, economics, society and history (basically my major, Global Studies, in a nutshell,) all taught in Spanish. The courses were fairly slow paced because we were all foreigners, but I learned an immense amount about Argentina that was complimented by my living within the very society that I was studying (you see why I keep trying leave the country to study?) Also, I passed through with flying colors: I did very well in all of my classes and now have nine credits to show for an entire summer that cost less than the cost of nine credits at Hofstra.

Politics and Economics
The politics and economics of Argentina are horrendously depressing. Ask an Argentine, and while he may be quick to boast Argentine asados (BBQ’s) or soccer, he will be even quicker to use every adjective of insult to describe his politicians and the state of his government. “They are all corrupt, they become politicians to line their own pockets, they buy votes to win, the public good is last on their agenda...” And from all that I learned from conversations with Argentines, from my university courses, and from the news, that seems to be strikingly close to reality. My host and I could sit at the dinner table for hours discussing politics: they all seem to be passionate and eager to express their frustration.
And it is not difficult to understand why. At the turn of the 20th century, Argentina was considered one of the most developed countries in the world, but today it is struggling with much of Latin America and steadily falling further in reverse, even as countries like Chile and Brazil are moving forward. After long lasting dictators, series of military rulers that came into power without elections, and two serious economic crashes in the past three decades, Argentina has seen a rough century. In fact, many Argentines scoff at the economic crisis that the world is facing today: “this is Argentina. We are always in crisis.” The 2001 Argentine crisis was marked by panic, frozen bank funds, forced currency conversions, and inflation as salaries remained unchanged. Argentina went through five presidents in nine days. Middle class workers lost their jobs overnight, and just as fast informal employment soared.

Argentine Universities
Unfortunately the program that I found put us in classes at a private university in Buenos Aires. I say “unfortunately” because Argentina’s public universities are absolutely free to attend (I could have saved some money for more tango classes.) And not just free for Argentines (if you were to correlate it with in-state public university tuition) but to the world: the government is not choosy. They are also very good: for a professor it is a position of prestige to teach in one of Argentina’s public universities, public universities are much more competitive, and the education is thought to be much better than in private schools. Adequate acknowledgement of higher education is at least one thing that Argentina’s government has gotten right. Because of this lucky set of circumstances, students from all over Latin America can be found in Argentine cities studying at public universities. I met many, many young people from Columbia, Venezuela, Ecuador, Panama, and across Latin America living and studying in Argentina because the education is better and less expensive than in their respective countries. With that said, private universities clearly have more money. I spent a day in classes at my Argentine friend's university, marked by graffiti falling down posters, bare bones rooms and bathrooms that made one question sanitation standards. My private university, on the other hand, was clean, pristine, often had trays of food and drinks catered to different classes and meet and greets, and the bathrooms were cleaned, always fully stocked (merely a silly dream to the students where I visited at University of Buenos Aires,) and smelled of fresh cleaning products.

Homage to La Viruta

http://www.lavirutatango.com/english_version/nosotros_la_viruta.html

It is time I give thanks to my second home in Buenos Aires, La Viruta. Yes, yes: I stayed with a family for most of the time and even did some couch surfing, so I certainly was not without a place to stay. But I spent enough time in La Viruta to call it a home and to owe it thanks. “La Viruta” the place is fairly unassuming: it is in the basement of the Armenian Cultural Center, unmarked on the outside as a milonga*, in the barrio Palermo SoHo of Buenos Aires. But once you are inside you would never think that there is a lack of publicity: dance has completely taken over in this huge space—six nights a week, in fact—and people fill the room corner to corner. It offers lessons, dance and shows and is now the most well-known and largest Argentine milonga*. Five days a week there are classes—classes of tango, milonga*, salsa, and swing—and an everyday dance practica** afterwards.

It is extremely open and friendly, and that is mainly why I love it. It is the epitome of a social environment, marked by interaction between friends and soon to be friends. In our modern western world we have iphones and ipods, text messaging and headphones plugged into our ears in public places and thus plugging us out of what is happening around us, and we shun public transportation in favor of our own enclosed vehicles. We as individuals are isolated more and more—and isolate ourselves—from the company of others usually without consciously realizing what we are doing. Walking on my college campus or in big cities (still not necessarily the streets of Port Clinton: I’m happy to say that much of small town Midwest still has a way to go before reaching this stage) half of the people walking by themselves will either have headphones on or a cell phone in hand, and heaven forbid should they make eye-contact with anyone. It is almost as though there is a fear to be in a situation by ourselves where we may have to interact with new people, so we keep ourselves company with electronics and make ourselves seem unapproachable and thus less vulnerable. For adults who choose to take advantage of today’s technology in this way, it is a choice they make often after having lived years without these options. But for youth, it can be debilitating and anymore risks not even being a choice. Two years ago I had a girl in one of my art classes. It was a hands-on three dimensional building art classes, where as you mold clay or cut wire, it was only natural to chat with the other students at your table. I never heard her speak once: she always had her ipod turned on. Whatever: music helps her focus on her work. So for part of our grade, we were required to go into Manhattan and visit art galleries as a class. Through the wait at the train station and the ride into the city she was watching movies on her ipod (while all the rest of our small group stayed in conversation) and again in the galleries she was equally as isolated with her little ipod of technology. I realized: it’s not just that she likes to work to music. She is socially totally underdeveloped because, whereas before it may have been necessary, today technology prevents her from needing to go out of her comfort zone. So if people have the choice between going out of their comfort zones and, well, not, what are they likely to choose? And to just think about it, it is only becoming worse, and quickly. When I was ten (not so long ago) and I wanted to invite a friend over to play, I had to call her home phone, her scary dad would answer and I had to practice talking to adults before getting my friend on the phone to invite her. Today ten year olds can text their friend directly rather than go through that uncomfortable formality with adults, being confronted with the situations less and less for developing those social skills. What a scary thought! Realistically, if I want to, I never need to deal with another clerk at a store, pizza man on the phone, or university professor again: I can do it all online, gracias a technology. More and more youth are developing to be like the girl in my art class from growing up glued to electronics: without social skills and with a huge lack of confidence in situations with new people. She probably did have her own group of friends, but because it was no longer necessary to leave her comfort zone very often, she did not force herself to do so.

This is why I think social dance is so amazing! It is based on interaction: not technology or being entertained by electronics. Cultural dances that the community participates in have been part of communities for thousands of years across cultures…perhaps an indicator of why it is so important to try to keep social dances around today! If you try any sort of social dance you will notice that a) you meet new people and b) people are happy. People love the interaction that it brings! Today (inserted later: September 1, 2009, back at Hofstra University) the Latin American club along with the Latina Sorority hosted an event with free food and live Latin music, from cumbia to bachata and salsa to reggaeton. While all of those members came from different families, different parts of the country with heritage from different parts of Latin America, they all were clearly having a great time, breaking down boundaries just by sharing the music and dances of their childhood. This is what social dances give: a commonality among otherwise often different people.

Of all of the many milongas I frequented in Argentina, La Viruta was by far the best example. All ages attended, and there were no bars between them. You could easily show up alone, and you would not have to worry about feeling isolated or an outsider. Or on the contrary, if you showed up to a class with a partner, it would not be long before everyone switched and you met someone new with whom to dance. La Viruta does not have a demographic: its patrons range from 18 to 80 wearing ragged jeans to debonaire suits, and they all share the same floor. Those age groups and social classes do not stay segregated for long: I shared many a dance with every age in that range.

The classes were divided by ability in different areas, so someone could show up for the very first time and get a lesson on the basics, while a well-weathered dancer could also come and have a meaningful and challenging class. All of the dance teachers were fabulous: probably not because they are the best in the industry but because they were having such a good time. The atmosphere was so relaxed that they let their goofy sides shine through, making the classes more honest. And what better way to meet a new friend in the classes than to laugh with them?

While La Viruta boasts being the largest milonga in Argentina, as the most well-known it still becomes absolutely packed. Often you cannot find seating—even when I showed up at 3:30 in the morning it was often still full. Many times I did not bother finding a seat or table: I stuffed my bag and coat under someone else’s table (I never even worried about anything being stolen) and stood along the side of the floor, never waiting too long to be invited to dance, and in fact often with not even enough of a break to get a drink inbetween. I could do this all night never sitting down, whether I had arrived with friends or by myself.

Another virtue of La Viruta
People may begin frequenting La Viruta to learn tango and walk away knowing salsa, swing and milonga, as well. Entrance is one price: one ticket is $16 Arg. pesos, or $4.50 USD (unless of course you buy them in a pack of four and receive half off!) That one price will get you in any time you choose, so if you come at six pm to take three lessons before the milonga it will cost you $16 for the entire night, or if you arrive after 11 pm only for the milonga it will cost you the same $16. Well, might as well stay for it all, right? It actually encourages patrons to learn more dances for the sake of having more dance and thus more joy in their lives at no added income or benefit to itself (Wow--coming from my society where money is always the bottom line, this is tough to wrap my brain around.) On some days, I would go to one of Buenos Aires’ numerous other milongas, but head over to La Viruta before the end of the night, where it would be free after 1:30 am on week days or 3:30 on weekends. That way if it’s all you can afford you can wait to come late and enjoy some late night tango for absolutely free. That is bare bones tango—one of my friends was a poor college student but would ride his bike over to join us after they stopped charging—so even the poor can dance. On Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays it was open until 6 am. 6 am! And many full-grown, responsible members of society with real jobs (presumably) would stay right up until the end! Remember this is not what you may consider a sin-bath rave lasting until the wee hours of the morning: this is people listening to very classical sounding music, maybe sharing croissants or empanadas with friends and partners, and alternating between relaxing at their tables, chatting, watching and dancing.

While I had a variety of dance friends from classes and milongas (Argentinians, Italians, a German, a Iranian, a couple of Frenchman, etc.) my last several weeks in Buenos Aires I was lucky enough to have found a supportive dance community. By the end of my summer, on Tuesday, salsa night, my friend Alejandro (who I had met in a couch surfing online group through our interest in salsa) and I had formed a group of at least six other couch surfers that would come every Tuesday to take salsa lessons. I also had my three New Mexicans—Meghan, Derek and Greg—who were some of the nicest individuals that I’ve met with a love for dance so visible that watching them dance would make anyone want to try it. Then there was Ricardo, an Ecuadorian who while studying at a public university in Buenos Aires had met and fallen in love with tango…and so many others!

I certainly did not hold my own dancing tango from the beginning (after all, you have to start somewhere,) and this is another part of the reason that I love La Viruta. Other milongas and practicas seem sometimes clique-y and people may only dance with friends or dancers that they already know are “good enough” for them: not the case at La Viruta. There were people of all levels, so it was the only place that from the beginning I did not feel out of place and could always be assured a dance. It was the perfect learning environment when I was still new to tango, and even later on after I had improved greatly, I kept a special place in my heart for those little old men who were willing to practice with my clumsy feet and stiff following when I first began.

*milonga: (1) a place where tango is danced, aka a social, practica
(2) also the name of a dance in Argentina, similar to tango but with faster,
livelier music and quicker footwork

**practica: Where a social dance is danced, aka social or milonga when specifically
referring to tango

Trash Pickers in Buenos Aires

The Organization of Cartoneros in Buenos Aires
In Argentina, they are called “cartoneros,” but in New Delhi they go by “ragpickers”, in Egypt “zabbaleen”, in the Philippians “boyte dyario.” While their names vary, everywhere their work has the same scope: to make a living off of the trash of others. These people take advantage of the recycling industry that neither the government nor the population in general do. They collect paper, cardboard, plastic, aluminum and any other product that there happens to be a market for and sell them to intermediaries.

In Argentina, this phenomenon in the informal recycling sector grew monumentally after the 2001 economic crisis when the percentage of people without work took off overnight. There had been very little formal system of recycling throughout Argentina, so there was a large hole in the system waiting to be filled. Before Argentina’s 2001 economic crisis Cartoneros existed, but only an uneven scattering. But overnight, through the 2001 economic crisis the number grew to at least 40,000 cartoneros, and with such scale they began to organize in massive numbers. (Argentina’s 2001 crisis crippled its economy and caused a significant lowering in the value of Argentina’s peso, the quality of life, and employment in the county.)

Cooperatives where members share storage space and other benefits have appeared quickly throughout the cities of Argentina, including that of Pepe Cordoba. The shared storage space seems small but is an alternative much healthier for the cartoneros who often store the contaminated wastes in their own homes. Also in other respects cartoneros have become politically active and have had successes in gaining more rights. In December of 2002, the legislature of Buenos Aires revoked a law that made the informal collection of recyclables on the street illegal, a law that before caused many confrontations between these marginalized people trying to support themselves and their families and the local authorities. While in the past their work was quite unsafe, working during dangerous hours of the night and dealing with confrontations with authorities, now they are protected by authorities, a big change. Their activism with both the law and public opinion have changed the mentality of the population so that now their work is more accepted as a legitimate means to make a living. Growth in their organization has created growth in public acceptance, and growth in public acceptance has resulted in public organization to further the cause of the cartoneros: campaigns to encourage people to pre-separate their trash have emerged as well as soup kitchens and vaccination programs organized by church groups and neighborhood groups.

One exemplar cooperative of trash collectors in Juarez City in Mexico multiplied the salaries of its members by ten times, bettered their health insurance, and began a school for their children. On a very small scale, Cordoba’s cooperative has made itself an example for other cooperatives in Argentina and, like the cooperative in Juarez City, has gained more power with numbers. Intermediaries pay individuals much less than they pay companies that deal with a much larger volume of recycling, so Cordoba is able to use the collective wealth of recycling from the individuals in his cooperative to gain a better price from those intermediaries. Also, he has organized within the cooperative: they have supplied uniforms for their members, organized the women with jobs in the warehouse, and purchased a truck. A yet larger number of cooperatives are more similar to the one of another cartonero, Francisco Monzon: smaller, with possibly only 30 members, and seeking simply a little more power with the primary goal to obtain better prices.

Some Argentine cooperatives have considerably helped their members, but still they are young (after all, many only began with the growth in unemployment and thus informal trash collection after the crisis in 2001) and still need to develop. There are many challenges to face before replicating the success in Juarez City, with the little success seen by Cordoba not widespread. In Buenos Aires, there are around ten known cooperatives of size, but still the majority of Cartoneros work for themselves or without organization larger than that of their own immediate family.

In 2005, Buenos Aires approved a Zero Waste Law to considerably reduce the quantity of what is thrown away as waste. To arrive at the law’s goals, the plan is to open sites to manage the wastes and include cartoneros and their knowledge in the process. This would reduce the overall waste produced and create formal employment for Argentina’s cities’ informal trash collectors. This plan recognizes that the cartoneros arrived before this law and were doing a pretty good job to boot—they collected an estimated 66 tons per day of waste cardboard and paper products in Buenos Aires alone—and its hope is to avoid any inadvertent negative affects on the cartoneros, who will operate the waste sites. On May 1, 2008 the first of the many planned sited opened on small scale to practice and work out the details before expanding to a larger scale and building more plants.

The Zero Waste Law was a step in the right direction, but unfortunately all of the changes are slow. The government is not taking many steps toward enforcement and in reality, is not even really following the law. In 2007, various NGOs had to work to stop an attempt by the government to open a garbage incineration plant, an act prohibited by the Zero Waste Law. Also, many of the idealistic goals of the government are slow to begin. Still, however, there are many reasons to be optimistic. Considering the progress of the cartoneros already in cities in Argentina, most within only one decade, there is reason to hope for a great deal more. In all cases, however, the changes will not emerge from one side alone: they will result from a joint effort by the government, the cartoneros themselves and the support and actions of people at all other levels of Argentine society.

Biocycle. Zero Waste Law. http://www.jgpress.com/archives/_free/001659.html . 2008.
Goldberg, Jonathan. The American Prospect. ‘One Man´s Trash’. http://www.prospect.org/cs/articles?article=one_mans_trash . January 21, 2003.
Valente, Marcela. IPS. Argentina: Transforming Garbage into Decent Jobs. http://ipsnews.net/news.asp?idnews=33248 . 16 Mayo 1006.

Pictures of Argentina!

http://picasaweb.google.com/alexannmoore/ArgentinaSummer09#

I posted some pictures online to a fairly user friendly site with better quality than blogspot. Use this link to reach them...and enjoy!!

Alex

Milongas

La Catedral is a bar/ milonga here in BA, but far different from your typical bar or milonga. It's sort of an underground, alternative, old, run-down warehouse converted into a bar with art covering the walls, lots of Argentinean wine, all vegetarian food (that's saying something here in meat-centric Argentina), lots of spunky youth, and live music. All of the tables and chairs are mismatching and old, probably taken for free or from second hand stores. This place attracts an interesting crowd: a milonguero dressed in his suit occasionally shares the floors with a majority of youth dressed in raggedy clothes and tennis shoes. There was a table of people my age (what are we called? Adults?—that sounds old. kids? ...twenty-ers? ) drinking Argentinean wine and sketching by candlelight, while their friends did interpretive dance to tango music. Overall, a fabulous atmosphere.











The second is definitely the more traditional milonga, with people well-dressed and traditional tango etiquette. Both types have their virtues!

Iguazú Falls, Argentina

Iguazú Falls´ Parana River separates Brazil and Argentina, slightly upstream from where the Parana and Rio Grande converge at the borders of the two countries along with that of Paraguay, as well. (picture of me standing on Argentine ground with Paraguay behind to the left and Brazil behind to the right.)

We spent 17 hours in a bus both ways to a from Northern Argentina to see the falls. But this was not your ordinary Greyhound: this was full service, reclining chairs, movies, double decker bus with meals, blankets, and pillows included. It was like first class air travel on ground. Did I mention free wine and champagne? When we arrived we stayed in a huge hostel in the small town that is Puerto Iguazú, equipt with a freezing cold pool (I was the only one to enjoy myself a nice two lap workout before I promptly got out in order to use my lungs again,) and nightly shows. We were lucky enough to have a Brazilian Samba performance (Youtube it if it sparks your interest; pictures to risqué to include) with two lovely ladies and a one man. He wore a shiny silvery shirt and played a tiny hand tambourine-like drum, and they wore more or less nipple covers, thongs, and heals. Samba music is lively and fun, with lots of shaking. I was sitting in front, and, because from the beginning Samba-man saw my enthusiasm and that good music pulses through me even as I try to sit still, I was favored the whole time and so picked to dance with a bunch of other girls learning the samba in front of the hostel and later was samba-man's personal partner at the end when the dancing was most interactive. One more notch on my dance belt: brazilian samba. This was Saturday evening after a huge asado, or Argentine BBQ with lots of meat, salads, glorious food, and this time free all you could want Brazilian Caipirinhas (thus dancing came a little more fluidly to everyone.)

The falls were amazing. It cost $60 pesos to get into the park (that's the foreigner price; it costs Latin Americans $20) but it was well worth it. Aparently it's a fairly dry season and so the falls were less strong, but I was suficiently impressed. All of the water comes from the Amazon, not from any mountains. I cannot even fathom how that much water can be created any place on earth; the park is absolutely spectacular with waterfall after waterfall for miles.

And sorry for the picture on its side. That's the computer's fault. Not mine.

Temaiken

Temaikén is a biopark outside of Buenos Aires. Its name comes from the roots of a language indigenous to the region meaning Tem (meaning earth) and Aiken (meaning life,) appropriate for an institution that combines a zoo, botanical garden, aquarium, and an anthropological and natural history museum. Its mission is to promote research, study, understanding and divulgence of information regarding biological diversity, preservation, evolution, ecological equilibrium and their relationship with mankind, foremost for the preservation of the environment.
I spent a day here with other students to see the animals of Argentina. What is special about this park is that most of its exhibits specifically contain animals from Argentina and this section of South America. It is also interesting becuase much of the time you are right there with the animals. You walk inside a bird santuary with birds free to fly around, and in much of the park you will see various animals galavanting around without cages (alligators and lions excluded.)

TANGO!

'I am here to tango.'

That is the reason for being in Buenos Aires for many foreigners that I have met through tango here; people all over the world will come to Argentina explicitly to learn or practice tango. I have met people that come for a couple of weeks, even an Australian woman who is here for a full year with her sole purpose to dance tango every day.

So what is so special about tango, you ask?

Ask a true tanguero and tanguera: passion. Intensity. Swing is fun, salsa is upbeat, but neither compare in intensity and passion. In reality, the motions of tango aren't important. The tango of a milonga is not meant to be watched. It is meant to be danced. As long as you can feel it, you are doing it right. Sensuality is key. That is also probably part of the reason that it has remained such a strong part of the culture here in BsAs; throughout economic crashes and disasters, it has only become stronger. The suffering find relief in tango. For this, it is no surprise that tango originally emerged out of the lonely barrios of the poor working class of Buenos Aires.


In addition to passion, the focus that is required draws people in. As a follower who has danced significant amounts of Latin dance and swing and at least some of most ballroom dances, no other takes the same amount of focus. Each change is so subtle. To follow you need to be in tune with the movements of every tiny muscle--even the intention of movement. It's not quite like letting your partner throw you around as in swing. That focus is a wonderful clearing of the mind if you have stresses in your life.

I have absolutely fallen in love. At moments I could care less to do anything else: I want to tango dance everyday. That could very well be because I'm so stubborn and don't like putting in an average effort. Tango is infinitely difficult, and for me there is no exception. Some days it feels like no matter how I try to relax and follow, my body just isn't going to give in to the leader. Because that's truthfully the real problem. Learning moves is arbitrary, as I've been dancing all my life. My problem is shedding my confident, independent spirit. To follow you need to surrender completely, and herein lies my barrier. I'm on my way, though.

And last night I think I had my best tango night yet. I danced for more or less 12 hours straight. Class from 6-8, a class at the milonga from 9-11, and then the milonga from 11-3. The first milonga, that is. You see in Palermo, the barrio, there are many milongas. And most close around 3. But one, La Viruta, outlasts them all. And what's best, after 3 a.m. it is absolutely free. So the other milongas clear out, and starting soon after 3 a.m. La Viruta receives its second wave of guests. This is la vida porteña: the night lifestyle that Argentina adopted from Spain.

Last night was my first night at a new milonga, Villa Malcolm. It was amazing! First of all, I am gaining more Tango friends, so going with a group of friends that one can always drag onto the floor is a huge factor. One of the friends I've started practicing with outside of tango classes, which I think will be a great help. Then, Villa Malcolm was one of the friendliest milongas I've ever been to (right there with La Viruta) in the sense that everyone is open to dancing with everyone, and not exclusively clique-y. I have had completely lackluster nights at milongas because I spent the entire night sitting and watching and not dancing (because if people don't know you they don't invite you to dance and there is an entire etiquette to tango to follow,) so friends and friendly strangers make all of the difference. There were three performances throughout the night, each of them wonderful. At most milongas or practicas, there will be a break while a couple performs for and all other dancers clear the floor. The couple last night was amazing, both in their footwork and their passion (in comparison with a couple that I saw two nights ago, with excellent dances and ability overall but lacking enthusiasm in their movements.) Later on, there was a man who performed just himself on stage with two brooms and a dress pulled over them, absolutely unique, and then a woman who danced with a jacket on a sort of hanger. Extremely fun, the both of them. Aside from the fun atmosphere, a huge help is that I am finally improving so much. I know enough basics that it's not too often that someone I dance with tries to throw in a move in which I am dancingly illiterate, and I am getting comfortable enough to throw in fancy footwork along the way. I was even able to follow in milonga. 'a milonga' is a place where people go to dance to mostly classical tango music with some milonga, tango electronico and Chacarera (more lively folkdance completely apart from tango and native to a wider area in Argentina.) 'Milonga' is a breed of tango that is much faster, so next to impossible to do if you are first learning. Now I just need to get my foot in the door of chacarera, which really isn't difficult at all and for understanding's sake can best be compared with an interactive sort of dance like American square dance.
So after the first milonga closed its doors we walked to the second, and gloomily left when it closed at 6 a.m.
I got into bed at 7:30 and woke up today at 2 pm.
With an alarm.
I've iced my feet three times today, and am getting ready to go out to a milonga again (after my Couch Surfing/Tango friend's dinner and 4th of July party.)

Did I mention that Tango is danced in heels?
High ones.

Uruguay

I spent Sunday in Colonia, Uruguay, with my group from Expanish. It was an early morning (I had to wake up at 6 am, which is fairly early considering that I had only returned home from the previous night's milonga an hour and a half before,) but we got there early enough to spend the entire day. The first part was a tour of the old city. Colonia is very much a city trying to expand its tourism. It was given the classification of world heritage site, at least the small part that consitutes the old city. It is the oldest town in Uruguay: quaint, with Portuguese roads intersecting Spanish roads (after the Portuguese conquered the natives...the Spanish conquered them.) I think our tour guide was being paid both by us and the Uruguayan government to help boost their economy, "This is the church...a lovely place to get married. A French couple was married here in 2007...an couple from the United States last year with 80 wedding guests that all stayed in our town for three days...if any of you are getting married or know anyone who will soon be marrying please come marry here in Colonia. It is very good for our economy and tourism. The priest will be done with the service in 15 minutes and you may speak with him about marrying here in our church." She was very keen to plug Colonia and all of its wonderful attractions on many occassions.

Myself and a friend from class--ironically another environmentalist from about an hour and a half away from where I go to school on Long Island who goes to a school, Oberlin, about an hour and a half away from where I live in Ohio--rented bicycles and road around the city. We saw the more modern areas of the city, the more spread out parts (because it is really more of a village than city,) and the long sandy coast. We enjoyed some time on the beach, despite the cold, and crawled through a hole in the fence around the old, crumbling bull fighting ring (as bull fighting was outlawed in Uruguay after the Argentians had it built for their wealthy looking for a vacation spot to enjoy.)


As Noelia (my couch surfing host,) told me, they DO drink matte even more in Uruguay than in Argentina. In the evening, it seemed that at least half of the population was carrying around their thermos under one arm with matte in hand.

While walking back to wait the last couple of hours at the boat (as it is winter, wandering around outside, especially in the evening, is only enjoyable for so long) we passed a group of men on a site street with a fire in the road and a dozen drums laying around it. We walked over to talk to them and learned that twice a week at night they get together to play traditional Uruguayan music in a mini parade in the old city. It was the best part of our day! We spent the whole day as Americans LOOKING at Uruguayan houses, beaches, food, people, and matte, but finally we got to talk with them and experience a little bit of their culture from their side.

While walking down the central block full of outside restaurants with hosts sweet talking you to come in (think Mulberry Street in New York's Little Italy,) there are dancers on small stages out front of the restaurants dancing traditional Tango (the passionate dance originated in La Boca and now spread throughout the world) and Chacarera (the folklore dance more traditional to the rest of Argentina, but with almost always at least one song to be found at the end of a milonga in Buenos Aires.) While walking past, one of the sweet talkers told me that I should dance tango. He was surprised when I told him I did, and promptly told the professional on stage. I took of my bag and got up on stage and to dance with him, for the audience surrounding, and got myself a nice picture.




Boca Juniors Soccer Match in La Boca! Soccer here is huge, and Boca Juniors probably have the most loyal fans of them all. We saw a match between Boca and River Plate, posibly the most intense rivalry within Argentina. That smoke that you see: that would be fans setting off fireworks of their own in the stadium during the game. It was pretty intense, although Ohio State's stadium has thoroughly ruined any potential awe that most people would get from stadiums of La Boca's size.


More pictures in La Boca! I spent last Saturday in La Boca with a group of couch surfers that meets every two or so weekends in a different part of the city to take pictures. It's the perfect way to photograph the city: there are BA natives who a.) know where to go and b.) know intersting facts about each place! La Boca is one of BA's oldest barrios, initally filled with immigrants who had originally come hoping for land from much of Europe and mostly Italy. The traditional style of brightly colored buildings started when La Boca's residents were too poor to purchase fresh paint for their homes. Indtead, they would take scrap paint from boats coming in to port and paint their houses using the various colors of left-over scrap paint. Today, it has held through as tradition...and mostly for tourism. La Boca is a large barrio, but it has a very distinct tourist trap area with the prettyist colors, full of street artisans and tango dancers and tourist shops selling chinsy junk, usually catering to the tourist's enthrawlment with tango.


Boca Juniors Soccer Match in La Boca! Soccer here is huge, and Boca Juniors probably have the most loyal fans of them all. We saw a match between Boca and River Plate, posibly the most intense rivalry within Argentina. That smoke that you see: that would be fans setting off fireworks of their own in the stadium during the game. It was pretty intense, although Ohio State's stadium has thoroughly ruined any potential awe that most people would get from stadiums of La Boca's size.

View from San Telmo, a barrio of BA, by night.


A couple of saturdays ago I spent at the horse racing track with a group of couch surfers, before going to a cultural festival in the evening. The moment I arrived to the track my allergies skyrocketed, but luckily I was in the company of an allergetic English man, like myself, so with his allergy blockers and my Visine, we were a mean team. I really have no idea what happened at the event...horse racing is pretty far from my realm of wanting to decipher. Horse races are fairly lame themselves: every 35 minutes or so a new race begins, and you see a bunch of horses run past you once. Woohoo. I was the only one who didn´t bet (I figure there is no reason for an addictive personality to even begin,) but I definitely enjoyed the nice day in the sun with friends.

Downtown BA at night!





A nighttime Buenos Aires Milonga, or nightclub specifically for tango music and dancing with a live band and a performance. The band was at least nine strong with FOUR accordian players, and the overall musicians/ music/ performance couple made a performance that was about as intense as any other genre of music could possibly invoke.




This was my first milonga after two classes here and one at home in New York, and I'd say it went pretty well! Other than the fantastic ambience, I got some good dancing practice in with my snazzy new tango shoes. Luckily my stars aligned: I met Aljosha, a guy from Berlin here in BA specifically to learn tango, and he showed me where he takes lessons. Then I met him to go to a milonga: he had already done all of the scouting out, so the worst work has all been done for me. From there I met his tango friend and she danced with me a good portion of the night, giving me great practice (later I found out she gives tango lessons and I got all of that for free--no wonder she knew so well how to lead!)