Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Buenos Aires...
So, here I am at the airport in Sao Paulo. It is Wednesday at 4:40am, Sao Paulo time. I just awoke from my short nap on a hard, cold bench. The trip here has been an eventful one after going to the wrong airport in Buenos Aires and having to splurge on a cab to take me through an hour of traffic to the correct airport. I arrived to Sao Paulo at 1:30am, and my flight departs here at 12:45pm. After a three hour stop-over in Panama City, I arrive to New York at 2:30am on Thursday morning. Yep, I left Tuesday evening and arrive to New York on Thursday morning. That is what being frugal does to you.
The past few days in Buenos Aires have been quite eventful. I arrived to Buenos Aires quite unprepared with just my backpack and a piece of paper with the name and address of a hostel I had booked a few days earlier.
Much to my expectations, the Spanish spoken in Buenos Aires is unlike anything I have ever heard. Generally in Spanish the word "tu" is used to say "you," however, in Buenos Aires, they use "vos" instead. "Yo" sounds more like "jo" and "ll" is pronounced "zh," rather than how I learned it for years to be pronounced like the letter "y." To add to the confusion, my knowledge of Portuguese has helped me to create my own unique Portu-span-glish language that nobody seems to understand.
Despite the language barrier and the delay (word of advice: never fly Aerolineas Argentinas), I figured out the bus routes and made it to my hostel before dark. And unfortunate for the traveler before me, but fortunate for me, the hostel bed I was supposed to stay in had bed bugs and I was given my own private room for the same price ($12 a day...I love hostels).
Most of my time in Buenos Aires was spent aimlessly exploring. One of my favorite parts of traveling alone is the ability to just walk in whatever direction my legs seem to choose at that moment in time. Sometimes my nose guides me, other times the sound of music or the noise of markets, but I always seem to end up somewhere interesting. To sum it up, Buenos Aires is a great city with tons of beautiful plazas and parks where you can stop to eat fresh croissants, empanadas or alfajores (delicious cookie/cake type desserts filled with dolce de leite and coconut). Each barrio, or neighborhood, is unique in its own way. And I managed to see all of them.
Some things I learned about Buenos Aires:
Some of the neighborhoods are not the safest of places. When a man just ten feet in front of me was drunkingly swinging a wooden stick around, a police officer voluntarily escorted me to my destination. In just four days, I heard three stories of mugging attempts.
Much to my expectations, the Spanish spoken in Buenos Aires is unlike anything I have ever heard. Generally in Spanish the word "tu" is used to say "you," however, in Buenos Aires, they use "vos" instead. "Yo" sounds more like "jo" and "ll" is pronounced "zh," rather than how I learned it for years to be pronounced like the letter "y." To add to the confusion, my knowledge of Portuguese has helped me to create my own unique Portu-span-glish language that nobody seems to understand.
Despite the language barrier and the delay (word of advice: never fly Aerolineas Argentinas), I figured out the bus routes and made it to my hostel before dark. And unfortunate for the traveler before me, but fortunate for me, the hostel bed I was supposed to stay in had bed bugs and I was given my own private room for the same price ($12 a day...I love hostels).
Most of my time in Buenos Aires was spent aimlessly exploring. One of my favorite parts of traveling alone is the ability to just walk in whatever direction my legs seem to choose at that moment in time. Sometimes my nose guides me, other times the sound of music or the noise of markets, but I always seem to end up somewhere interesting. To sum it up, Buenos Aires is a great city with tons of beautiful plazas and parks where you can stop to eat fresh croissants, empanadas or alfajores (delicious cookie/cake type desserts filled with dolce de leite and coconut). Each barrio, or neighborhood, is unique in its own way. And I managed to see all of them.
Some things I learned about Buenos Aires:
Some of the neighborhoods are not the safest of places. When a man just ten feet in front of me was drunkingly swinging a wooden stick around, a police officer voluntarily escorted me to my destination. In just four days, I heard three stories of mugging attempts.
It is not very difficult to survive on just empanadas, and at $1 each, quite affordable.
-
The clothes in Buenos Aires are fashionable and cheap. And there is tons of shopping. I had to force myself to avoid these places because I would get too overwhelmed and I had no space in my backpack for more gifts.
No matter how many times I try, "agua con gas" is just not as good as "agua sin gas."
Don't take pictures of the tango dancers performing in the outdoor restaurants. Trust me, the male tango dancer walked off the stage in the midst of his performance to tell me this.
La bomba is very entertaining. But the drunk Argentines dancing are even more entertaining.
-
Don't go out on a balcony in a skirt when there is a parade composed entirely of men on the street below. If you do, casually wave your hand to enact a large cheer from the crowd.
The people here refer to themselves as both Argentines and Argentinians.
There might appear to be many poor, homeless dumpster divers in Buenos Aires, but in actuality they are hired by companies to sort through the trash. These wastepickers pick out recyclable elements from mixed waste baskets throughout the city every night.
Buenos Aires is home to the widest road in the world. And it is pretty darn wide.
My last night the entire hostel decided to go out together to a local dance club. Apparently it is customary here to go out around 2am, and return as the sun rises.
-
The clothes in Buenos Aires are fashionable and cheap. And there is tons of shopping. I had to force myself to avoid these places because I would get too overwhelmed and I had no space in my backpack for more gifts.
No matter how many times I try, "agua con gas" is just not as good as "agua sin gas."
Don't take pictures of the tango dancers performing in the outdoor restaurants. Trust me, the male tango dancer walked off the stage in the midst of his performance to tell me this.
La bomba is very entertaining. But the drunk Argentines dancing are even more entertaining.
-
Don't go out on a balcony in a skirt when there is a parade composed entirely of men on the street below. If you do, casually wave your hand to enact a large cheer from the crowd.
The people here refer to themselves as both Argentines and Argentinians.
There might appear to be many poor, homeless dumpster divers in Buenos Aires, but in actuality they are hired by companies to sort through the trash. These wastepickers pick out recyclable elements from mixed waste baskets throughout the city every night.
Buenos Aires is home to the widest road in the world. And it is pretty darn wide.
My last night the entire hostel decided to go out together to a local dance club. Apparently it is customary here to go out around 2am, and return as the sun rises.
Buenos Aires was a great ending to a great five months.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Vou sempre estar aprendendo...
I have learned that sometimes friendship can break through a language barrier.
I have learned that deep down a good portion of people want to travel, but don't think that they have enough money to do so. But I have also learned that traveling does not have to be expensive. There is a way to be frugal, but also enjoy yourself.
I have learned that deep down a good portion of people want to travel, but don't think that they have enough money to do so. But I have also learned that traveling does not have to be expensive. There is a way to be frugal, but also enjoy yourself.
I have learned that Brazilians have an innate gene that I am missing that enables them to move their hips and legs to the beat of any musical style.
I have learned that I can survive on purely rice, beans and fruits.
I have learned that for Brazilians soccer isn't just for fun, it's a part of life.
I have learned how to sleep without any sheets and to never complain about the heat in New York ever again.
I have learned that there is something that attracts people to Americans, that for some reason makes them fascinated and eager to learn more (I have yet to determine what exactly it is).
I have learned that people are generally good and that first impressions can often be deceiving.
I have learned more about English grammar than I ever thought possible.
I have learned that teaching has its pros and cons, but it is definitely something I want to continue to do, even if not as a profession.
I have learned that warm milk and cold showers aren't the end of the world.
I have learned to take risks and put myself in uncomfortable situations, because the risk of never taking a chance is worse than the outcome could possibly be.
I have learned it's better to spend more time in fewer places than to see more places in less time.
I have learned that for Brazilians soccer isn't just for fun, it's a part of life.
I have learned how to sleep without any sheets and to never complain about the heat in New York ever again.
I have learned that there is something that attracts people to Americans, that for some reason makes them fascinated and eager to learn more (I have yet to determine what exactly it is).
I have learned that people are generally good and that first impressions can often be deceiving.
I have learned more about English grammar than I ever thought possible.
I have learned that teaching has its pros and cons, but it is definitely something I want to continue to do, even if not as a profession.
I have learned that warm milk and cold showers aren't the end of the world.
I have learned to take risks and put myself in uncomfortable situations, because the risk of never taking a chance is worse than the outcome could possibly be.
I have learned it's better to spend more time in fewer places than to see more places in less time.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Time for a reflection...
"People say that what we are all seeking is a meaning for life. I don't think this is what we're really seeking. I think what we're seeking is an experience of being alive."
- Joseph Campbell
I don't know who this Joseph Campbell character is, but I think he's onto something...
I spent my adolescent years trying my best to disguise myself in the crowd. Grades in school were important, so I made sure to receive top marks. I sneaked through my classes employing various techniques of memorization, only to soon after forget most of what I had learned. In high school, I continued this trend, engulfing myself in after school clubs and activities, some for the purpose of personal fulfillment, but others purely to boost my college resume. I succumbed to the standards set by society because that is what those around me were doing.
All my life I have felt like I was in a race. I never knew exactly who or what I was racing against, but I always made sure to maintain a solid lead.
However, over time something happened to me. My hair turned curly, my size small pants got a bit tighter, and one word began to continuously repeat itself in my mind.
Why?
The past couple of years I have been on this endless search to find my purpose in life.
And you know what? It's hard. And I have finally come to accept the fact that it might never be found.
So in the meantime, why not continue to explore, discover, and learn as much about the world as possible during the time that I am on it?
On Thursday morning I leave the small city of Lins to depart for Buenos Aires where I will spend a few days exploring before I return home to New York in time for Christmas.
What adventure is next? Who knows...
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Tear.
Yesterday was my last day of classes. And to the shock and awe of my friends, family, and even myself, I'll put it out there...
I cried.
No, not a gasping for air, crackling voice type of cry, but rather a straight faced cry where four or five solid tear drops trinkled down the side of my cheek.
Just one student was lucky enough to witness this unexpected display of emotion as the clock struck 9:30pm and she handed in the last test.
Five months of teaching English in a country that I once knew nothing about. Over in the blink of an eye.
"What was your favorite part of English class?" I asked my students, as a bonus question on the last test.
This generated a number of interesting responses, my favorite being:
Five months of teaching English in a country that I once knew nothing about. Over in the blink of an eye.
"What was your favorite part of English class?" I asked my students, as a bonus question on the last test.
This generated a number of interesting responses, my favorite being:
"When we laugh because you laugh you learning more. I think it."
I think I am going to miss it here.
I think I am going to miss it here.
Walking in a summer wonderland...
It is approaching Christmas and as I write this, I sit here in a tank top and shorts with sweat beads slowly dripping down my back. I never realized how hard it is to get into the Christmas spirit without cold weather, candy canes, stockings, gingerbread houses and endless Christmas music.
Brazilians believe in Santa Claus, or as they call him Papai Noel, but the Santa they believe in lives in Greenland, not the remote, unreachable location we Americans like to describe as the North Pole. It is strange seeing a man with a long beard, fur coat and hat decorating local ice cream shops here in Lins.
After forcing my classes to read and sing-a-long to my all time favorite Christmas songs, we got to discussing Christmas traditions. I learned that Brazilians don't hang stockings, leave cookies and milk out for Santa Claus or stand hopefully waiting for hours under mistletoe. This surprised me and made me curious about what other countries do to celebrate Christmas, so I did some research, and here are my findings...
In some Eastern European countries, there exists Santa's evil twin...a character named Krampus, who dresses in a devil-like costume and is believed to run around the town hitting children who have misbehaved with sticks.
In Spain, Portugal and Italy, it is a tradition to set up a model village of Bethlehem and along with Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus, a Caganer, or "shitter" is placed in the scene. The caganer is a figurine, traditionally of a man, in the act of defecating, pants around his knees, bending over with a pile of poop at his heels. He is usually placed in a corner, perhaps because he needs privacy.
In Germany, it is common to hide a pickle ornament in a hard-to-see spot in the Christmas tree. The child who finds the pickle on Christmas morning gets a special gift and good luck the following year.
For many Japanese, traditional Christmas dinner is Kentucky Fried Chicken. It is so popular and well marketed that reservations may have to be made to eat at a KFC on Christmas in Japan.
On the morning of Christmas day, people in Portugal have a traditional feast called a consoda. What makes this different is the fact that extra places are set and food is offered to relatives that have passed away.
In Germany, it is common to hide a pickle ornament in a hard-to-see spot in the Christmas tree. The child who finds the pickle on Christmas morning gets a special gift and good luck the following year.
For many Japanese, traditional Christmas dinner is Kentucky Fried Chicken. It is so popular and well marketed that reservations may have to be made to eat at a KFC on Christmas in Japan.
On the morning of Christmas day, people in Portugal have a traditional feast called a consoda. What makes this different is the fact that extra places are set and food is offered to relatives that have passed away.
In the Czech Republic, single women go out on Christmas Eve day and toss shoes. With their backs to the door, they throw one of their shoes over their shoulder. If the shoe lands with the heel facing the door, she’ll find herself single for another year. If the shoe lands with the toe facing the door, it means she should start making wedding plans.
In Caracas, Venezuela, people roller-skate to mass on Christmas Eve morning. The streets are blocked off to traffic until 8 am and children, the night before, tie one end of a piece of string to their big toes and hang the other end out the window. As roller skaters go by the next morning, they give a tug to all the strings hanging out the windows.
Interesting...
In Caracas, Venezuela, people roller-skate to mass on Christmas Eve morning. The streets are blocked off to traffic until 8 am and children, the night before, tie one end of a piece of string to their big toes and hang the other end out the window. As roller skaters go by the next morning, they give a tug to all the strings hanging out the windows.
Interesting...
Thursday, December 9, 2010
A Town Called Lins...
I wrote this poem for my students when we were discussing rhyming words. I have discovered that I have a love of writing corny poems...
People look at me strangely when I go for a run,
But they are the strange ones because they think driving in circles is fun.
Even in the summer people eat hot meals.
The girls won’t go out at night without their high heels.
Cars drive by blasting music very loud,
And at night the discos attract a very large crowd.
When meeting someone new they put out the left cheek to kiss.
These are just some of the things about Lins that I am going to miss.
I
Two months ago, I moved to a small town called Lins,
Where every meal is served with rice and beans.
In this town people love to eat meat,
And on Election Day papers are thrown into the street.
There are plenty of new and delicious fruits for me to try,
But nothing beats brigadero, I am not going to lie.
A lot of people have motorbikes on which they ride.
Every house is surrounded by a gate that you must unlock before going inside.
The streets are bumpy and the city is on a hill.
Many people of the town have great soccer skill.
It’s not unusual for students in the town to be late to class,
and every Sunday everything closes and the entire town goes to mass!
My showers are cold and the weather is hot.
The milk lasts for months and never seems to rot!
My house does not have air conditioning, only a fan.
All this sun better at least give me a tan!
Sometimes near my house a young boy sits up in the tree.
And every time I walk by he manages to scare me.
Sometimes giant bugs fly in through my window and around my room,
But I have learned how to kill them by hitting them with my broom.
When the people of the town are frustrated they say, “aye yay.”
Where every meal is served with rice and beans.
In this town people love to eat meat,
And on Election Day papers are thrown into the street.
There are plenty of new and delicious fruits for me to try,
But nothing beats brigadero, I am not going to lie.
A lot of people have motorbikes on which they ride.
Every house is surrounded by a gate that you must unlock before going inside.
The streets are bumpy and the city is on a hill.
Many people of the town have great soccer skill.
It’s not unusual for students in the town to be late to class,
and every Sunday everything closes and the entire town goes to mass!
My showers are cold and the weather is hot.
The milk lasts for months and never seems to rot!
My house does not have air conditioning, only a fan.
All this sun better at least give me a tan!
Sometimes near my house a young boy sits up in the tree.
And every time I walk by he manages to scare me.
Sometimes giant bugs fly in through my window and around my room,
But I have learned how to kill them by hitting them with my broom.
When the people of the town are frustrated they say, “aye yay.”
I leave my clothes outside on the clothesline and they take a full day to dry.
People look at me strangely when I go for a run,
But they are the strange ones because they think driving in circles is fun.
Even in the summer people eat hot meals.
The girls won’t go out at night without their high heels.
Cars drive by blasting music very loud,
And at night the discos attract a very large crowd.
When meeting someone new they put out the left cheek to kiss.
These are just some of the things about Lins that I am going to miss.
I
Thursday, December 2, 2010
A "radical" weekend...
Preface: This weekend I traveled to Brotas for a weekend of adventure sports. Unfortunately, I didn't consider that the sports require guidance and safety precautions that would be spoken in Portuguese. I guess that made it all the more adventure.
Rafting
I have always wanted to go white water rafting. When I was younger I remember convincing my sister and her boyfriend at the time (now husband) to drive my friend Sarah and I to White Water Willies. After a four hour ride to Delaware, we learned that in reality White Water Willies did not have white water rafting. So, we took it upon ourselves to carry the raft to the top of a waterfall and create our own white water adventure.
When I saw the option to go rafting in Brotas, I jumped at the opportunity. Although the rafting was not as exhilerating as I would have liked there was a small moment when I thought I had lost my life. Let me explain. Halfway through the rafting adventure, there came a point where everyone stepped out of the raft. Confused, Rachel and I stared as the instructor stated some instructions. He explained that we would be going down a natural rock water slide. One by one the people in my raft lied in the water, arms spread and legs crossed. And one by one they gently glided away with the current. Until it was my turn. I took my place in the water, positioned as shown, held my breath and was off with the current. At first the ride was slow, but just as I was about to take in some air, my body was tossed under water and pushed ahead. I gasped for air as I was plummeted forward. My first ever underwater waterslide experience. And hopefully my last...
The remainder of the rafting trip consisted of the instructor yelling things such as "pare" (stop), "piso" (get down and hold on) and "frente" (forward). After completing each waterfall our team would put our oars together and yell a chant that to me sounded something like "blah blah blah blah blah BROTASSSS!" but I later learned was "Nos capota mas nao breca," meaning we roll, but we don't stop.
Canyoning
Rafting
I have always wanted to go white water rafting. When I was younger I remember convincing my sister and her boyfriend at the time (now husband) to drive my friend Sarah and I to White Water Willies. After a four hour ride to Delaware, we learned that in reality White Water Willies did not have white water rafting. So, we took it upon ourselves to carry the raft to the top of a waterfall and create our own white water adventure.
When I saw the option to go rafting in Brotas, I jumped at the opportunity. Although the rafting was not as exhilerating as I would have liked there was a small moment when I thought I had lost my life. Let me explain. Halfway through the rafting adventure, there came a point where everyone stepped out of the raft. Confused, Rachel and I stared as the instructor stated some instructions. He explained that we would be going down a natural rock water slide. One by one the people in my raft lied in the water, arms spread and legs crossed. And one by one they gently glided away with the current. Until it was my turn. I took my place in the water, positioned as shown, held my breath and was off with the current. At first the ride was slow, but just as I was about to take in some air, my body was tossed under water and pushed ahead. I gasped for air as I was plummeted forward. My first ever underwater waterslide experience. And hopefully my last...
The remainder of the rafting trip consisted of the instructor yelling things such as "pare" (stop), "piso" (get down and hold on) and "frente" (forward). After completing each waterfall our team would put our oars together and yell a chant that to me sounded something like "blah blah blah blah blah BROTASSSS!" but I later learned was "Nos capota mas nao breca," meaning we roll, but we don't stop.
Canyoning
I have been at the top of the waterfall looking down. I have been surrounded by waterfalls on all four sides. I have been able to observe waterfalls from afar. I have been swimming underneath waterfalls, and jumping off of waterfalls. And after this weekend I have even canyoned right alongside a waterfall. Canyoning is the sport of propelling yourself down a waterfall, with a rope tied to both the top and the bottom. The sport in itself could be dangerous if you were to go at it alone, but with support in every direction I wasn't too afraid. On the way down it was amazing to pause and look at the beautiful rainbow just inches from my head.
Tirolesa (Zip-lining)
Not much to describe here. Imagine flying high above the trees of the forest attached by just a harness to a tight rope. And then imagine walking through the jungle to a secluded waterfall with butterflies soaring around your head.
Our last day was spent exploring Brotas and hanging out with teenage boys and jumping over waterfalls. It was amusing to see the shocked expressions on the young Brazilians' faces upon seeing two blonde haired white girls join them on the top of the waterfall cliff.
Tirolesa (Zip-lining)
Not much to describe here. Imagine flying high above the trees of the forest attached by just a harness to a tight rope. And then imagine walking through the jungle to a secluded waterfall with butterflies soaring around your head.
Our last day was spent exploring Brotas and hanging out with teenage boys and jumping over waterfalls. It was amusing to see the shocked expressions on the young Brazilians' faces upon seeing two blonde haired white girls join them on the top of the waterfall cliff.
The kindness of a stranger...
This past weekend Rachel and I planned a last minute trip to Brotas. After a little bit of searching I found a package that consisted of two nights in a hotel, rafting, canyoning and zip-lining all for the equivalent of $200 USD. Amazing? I think so.
After taking two of the most beautiful bus rides I have ever been on, we arrived in Brotas with nothing but our backpacks and a piece of paper with the hotel name and address. According to my students, Brotas is a popular tourist destination in Brazil, so arriving at the bus station I was taken aback by how tiny it was.
With no cell phone, and not a taxi cab in sight, Rachel and I wandered around aimlessly for a bit (this seems to be a common occurrence nowadays). While discussing our possible options, which included walking ourselves or hitch-hiking, Rachel noticed a young girl waving from a few feet away.
"Hello. Do you need help?" she asked in perfect English.
"Yes, actually we do," we replied showing her our hotel address and asking if there was a local bus we could take to get there.
"That hotel is about 20 miles away," she calmly answered, "and the last bus left a little while ago."
Rachel and I stared blankly at one another.
"I can drive you," she offered.
We resisted her offer with the same oomph that a typical girl would resist an offer from a man to pay for the meal on the first date. I'll call it the "You really shouldn't, but damn right I am going to accept it if you offer again" way.
Rachel and I: "No, it's so far away!" (Refusal #1)
Brazilian girl: "It's fine. There is no other way to get there."
Rachel and I: "Really, we'll figure it out. Don't worry!" (Refusal #2)
Brazilian girl: "No, I am driving you."
Rachel and I: "Okay, if you insist." (Acceptance, but seemingly against our will)
Maria, as we later learned her name, had spent two years nannying in Atlanta and spoke fluent English. She drove us to our hotel and even offered us a place to stay on our last night in Brotas, which we were unable to refuse (since apparently no buses leave Brotas on Sundays and we would need to stay an extra day). Maria was one of those people that helps to confirm my belief that humans are genuinely kind hearted.
I have always been trusting of people, and I never really knew why. But I guess it is because I have never been given a reason not to be.
After taking two of the most beautiful bus rides I have ever been on, we arrived in Brotas with nothing but our backpacks and a piece of paper with the hotel name and address. According to my students, Brotas is a popular tourist destination in Brazil, so arriving at the bus station I was taken aback by how tiny it was.
With no cell phone, and not a taxi cab in sight, Rachel and I wandered around aimlessly for a bit (this seems to be a common occurrence nowadays). While discussing our possible options, which included walking ourselves or hitch-hiking, Rachel noticed a young girl waving from a few feet away.
"Hello. Do you need help?" she asked in perfect English.
"Yes, actually we do," we replied showing her our hotel address and asking if there was a local bus we could take to get there.
"That hotel is about 20 miles away," she calmly answered, "and the last bus left a little while ago."
Rachel and I stared blankly at one another.
"I can drive you," she offered.
We resisted her offer with the same oomph that a typical girl would resist an offer from a man to pay for the meal on the first date. I'll call it the "You really shouldn't, but damn right I am going to accept it if you offer again" way.
Rachel and I: "No, it's so far away!" (Refusal #1)
Brazilian girl: "It's fine. There is no other way to get there."
Rachel and I: "Really, we'll figure it out. Don't worry!" (Refusal #2)
Brazilian girl: "No, I am driving you."
Rachel and I: "Okay, if you insist." (Acceptance, but seemingly against our will)
Maria, as we later learned her name, had spent two years nannying in Atlanta and spoke fluent English. She drove us to our hotel and even offered us a place to stay on our last night in Brotas, which we were unable to refuse (since apparently no buses leave Brotas on Sundays and we would need to stay an extra day). Maria was one of those people that helps to confirm my belief that humans are genuinely kind hearted.
I have always been trusting of people, and I never really knew why. But I guess it is because I have never been given a reason not to be.
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