Easter Weekend/Semana Santa: Part III

Easter Sunday arrived and with it, our last chance to see the Iguazú Falls in all their glory before we would be heading home from the extended vacation. The day started much like Saturday: breakfast, packing our lunch for the day inside the park and boarding the bus. However, contrary to the gloomy weather encountered on Saturday, we could not have dreamed for better weather or more brilliant skies than those which greeted us on Sunday. It was almost as if the sun came out exclusively for us! As we took our first steps into the park, it streamed out from behind the few clouds that remained and reigned prominently over the skies for the rest of the day. The second most amazing thing about Sunday's visit to the falls was how few visitors there actually were! Despite the weather, I would guesstimate that there were at least twice the number of people visiting on our first day than the second...All the Argentine tourists had apparently gone home to celebrate Easter with their families.

Upon entering Iguazú, we immediately made our way towards Garganta del Diablo (The Devil's Throat), the biggest waterfall in the park. We had also visited this fall on day 1, but by the time we had arrived there I was so cold and it was raining so hard that I didn't even take any pictures. Not having pictures of this beautiful place became all but a fleeting worry as we experienced its grandness in a totally new way amidst Sunday's beautiful weather. A few images of Garganta del Diablo...

It was a group effort, eventually dragging ourselves away from la Garganta, but we had other things that we wanted to see in the park! Next on our exploration list was the Sendero Macuco, an approximately 5 km jungle path hike in Iguazú. Our hostel owner shared with us that only 1% the park's visitors actually make time to trek this route. While we experienced a lot of great wildlife in action, including some beautiful birds, monstrous ants, sizable spiders and other creatures on four legs, the real treasure for me was at the end of the path.

A very large spider encountered on our Sendero Macuco hike.

 Here, you find one of the smallest waterfalls in the park and a small pool in front of the fall where you can swim! Needless to say, I was in the pool and standing underneath the waterfall before I even thought to break out my camera. Thus, at this moment, I unfortunately don't have any pictures of the fall.... hopefully this issue can soon be rectified by fellow ETA Stacy, who snapped lots of pictures while Sam and I more closely explored the fall. Unfortuately, Stacy had an early bus to catch back to Santa Fe so she departed shortly thereafter but Sam and I's adventures at Iguazú continued. Quickly drying in the beautiful sunshine, Sam and I returned to the upper and lower circuits of the falls that we had seen without rain on Saturday. More pictures were obviously taken and, finally, Sam and I decided to take the boat ride that lets you get up and close and personal with the falls....

 Although we went directly under a couple of these falls, I couldn't exactly look up at their grandeur. One, because I certainly would have lost a contact lens, and two, because the waterfall's intensity didn't exactly lend itself to this action either. The boat ride was also rather humorous at times with the guide first yelling to everyone over the roar of the water and the boat's engine that we should take photos and then later, yelling again that it was time for us to protect our cameras if we didn't want them fatefully drenched. Sam and I were soaked for the second time that day but it was certainly worth it, having that experience of being practically in the falls of Iguazú. With so few people in the park, we wrapped up our day just as relaxed as it had began, snapping a few more pictures and enjoying the beautiful weather...

And thus ends my Easter weekend travels. Sure, there was the relaxed dinner with some other Fulbright ETA's who were also visiting Iguazú, the moment of panic on the way to the bus terminal in which I realized I didn't have my cell phone (luckily found amidst a pile of blankets in the hostel, where it had been all day), and the rush of almost missing our bus at the terminal (only because its digital screen on the front didn't read 'Resistencia' [our destination]; it said 'Rosario' [the bus's final destination])... I know, a few too many close calls for one day that I can laugh about looking back on them now.

This week marked the beginning of my "normal" teaching schedule at San Fernando Rey. Anecdotes to ensue on the variety of these experiences...

Easter Weekend/Semana Santa: Part II

This is Part II of a 3-part series covering Teresa's Semana Santa vacations. Look soon for Part III in this exciting (hopefully not too wordy/lengthy) series. ;-)

Friday morning we were on a bus again by 7:00 am (I basically had no concept of a sleep schedule for the whole weekend...) on our way to Puerto Iguazú. Despite the fact that it was Easter weekend and, therefore, very busy in this town and its nearby mecca for tourists, we were immediately harassed by two different men outside the bus terminal to stay at their hostels. First approached by each one in English, we responded in Spanish that 'no, we wouldn't be staying at their hostel as we already had reservations.' The first gentleman was actually pretty cordial after that, pointing out to us the general direction that we would need to walk to reach our hostel; the second, well, not as gracious in laying off his promotional agenda for the hostel...I guess tourist towns/cities in various countries share the practice of pushing their services on naive/gullible tourists in the street. Just two blocks from the bus terminal was our hostel, Hostel Bambu:

Super chill and very clean, there had to have been fewer better places to stay in Puerto Iguazú. Upon arriving, the hostel owner gave us the 411 on las Cataratas and what we should do, what order we should see things, what we should take with us, etc. Since it was already 1:00 pm and the park closed at 6:00 pm (with an expected half hour bus ride to arrive at the park), we decided that it probably wouldn't be worth it to go that afternoon, even though the sunny, beautiful weather nearly urged us to act otherwise. Instead, we went to have coffee in town, go grocery shopping and take a short walk/hike to Hito Tres Fronteras (Milestone of Three Borders). With the town of Puerto Iguazú at the junction of the Paraná and Iguazú rivers, Hito Tres Fronteras marks the three way border between Argentina, Paraguay and Brazil. At this natural landmark, each country has its own column/pyramid marker with its nations colors, and, as our hostel owner shared with us, it is a beautiful place to sit and watch the sun set...

View down the waterway where los Rios Iguazú and Paraná converge. We see Paraguay on the left, Brazil just a bit on the right and Argentina where I stood.

View down the Río Paraná

Sun setting over Paraguay

Argentina´s marker at Hito Tres Fronteras

Back at the hostel, we jumped into cooking...Argentine style. Well, not exactly Argentine style in the food that we prepared but in a very "culturally appropriate" manner for the methods that we used to prepare it. The evening's dinner menu included pasta, chicken and vegetables and we were ready to fire up the gas stove when we discovered that it wouldn't light. After informing the hostel owner, we were told that we would have to wait about a half hour til someone arrived to work on it. A half hour turned into an hour wait (in which I taught Stacy and Sam new Argentine card games that I had recently learned), after which our hunger took over and told us it could wait no longer to be satisfied. I proceeded to become super creative in the kitchen, cooking up both our chicken and the mountain of delicious vegetables on the grill/sandwich press similar to a George Foreman and the pasta in small bowls in the microwave. I wish I had taken a picture of our dinner...it ended up being delicious. Huge kudos to my years spent in 4-H for these important life skills. :)

Saturday we headed to the falls on one of the first buses to leave the terminal. On the bus we met a lovely young woman named Laura from Wales who ended up joining us for the rest of the day at the park. My emotional build-up leading up to arriving at the park and eventually to the foot of the falls might best be described as the way a child (and me, even now at 22 years old) looks forward to Christmas. You know something amazing is coming, you may have even seen pictures of what is to come, but there really is no substitute for the waves of amazement that fill every possible corner of your physical, emotional and spiritual being when you reach that anticipated point. Maybe this seems a bit dramatic but words can't really do justice to this experience of being in the presence of such a natural wonder....

Lower circuit falls

View down one of the falls to a platform where we would eventually take many, many pictures.

View toward the falls of the Upper Circuit

As you can see in this final picture, the weather forecast was less than promising when we arrived Saturday morning and shortly after taking this picture, the clouds proceeded to begin emptying themselves on us. We shared a general thought consensus that: we're in a sub-tropical region. This will be like a nice, refreshing jungle rain. Warm breezes and sunny skies will ensue not too far behind the rain. Right? WRONG!! Unfortunately, the the rain continued, often at an intensity that I would label 'steady,' if not 'torrential downpour' at times. The vast majority of the falls' walkways were metal grating which became rather slick. The wind was absolutely brutal, a biting force that whipped through the park and pushed its way through my wet clothes to penetrate deep beneath my skin.  Nonetheless, we stuck it out in the rain for probably close to 5 hours more. Eventually we did call it a day; we were saturated and hoping and praying that Sunday would come with a miracle of better weather.

Back at the hostel, I was more than thankful for a hot shower and the chance to curl up in warm clothes and dry socks. Sam, Stacy and I sat down to do some lesson planning for our classes...but failed rather miserably as we had the chance to meet and converse with a variety of Germans and John, a guy from New Hampshire who is currently working in Brazil, also staying in our hostel. To make a long story short, our conversations started mid-afternoon and continued all night-- through a second excellent dinner of chorizo and vegetable stew that I concocted (yum, again!) and a few shared bottles of wine.

This post is certainly long enough. Kudos to you if you've stuck with me through the whole thing. There is a happy ending to this "rainy day" story, thankfully. Part III to come tomorrow!

Easter Weekend/Semana Santa: Part I

Wow, a week has truly flown since the last time that I posted. I hope that all of you reading this had a blessed Easter with friends and family. I spent an amazing, amazing weekend traveling in the Northeast corner of Argentina and will, over the next three posts probably, share much of what I had the blessing to do and see. There are still moments where I look at my pictures and think, did I really do that?! Yes, the weekend was simply that inspiring.

My travels began very, very early on Thursday morning.  As I had to be at the bus station at 3:30 am, I decided that going to bed on Wednesday evening was simply not necessary (Gotta love siesta for this reason!). Once on the bus, I did pass out for a few hours but arrived bright and early in Posadas (in the Misiones province) at 8:30 am to meet up with fellow ETA's Stacy Nazarro and Sam Kalish for the weekend's travels.  We grabbed a taxi to our hostel, got settled in, and headed right back out to explore las ruinas de Misiones Jesuítico Guaraníes (or Jesuit Guaraní Mission ruins) in San Ignacio (a small pueblo close to Posadas). With an hour to kill before our bus left for San Ignacio, we ate lunch at a small restaurant near the bus terminal called Homero, named after the infamous Homer of The Simpsons. This is certainly not the first time that I have seen/heard of references to The Simpsons here in Argentina. In fact, I'm almost beginning to think that I should watch an episode on YouTube each day to familiarize myself with this show that I have never watched! I have encountered references to this TV phenomenon on products like clothes, art and school supplies, in the name of the restaurant where we ate and amidst several discussions I have had with students about American culture.

Post-lunch and bus travel, we walked into San Ignacio and up to the mission ruins. It was truly amazing to again (Quilmes ruins a few weeks ago) be amidst a place where, a couple hundred years ago, there were such diverse groups each fighting for their own way of living. Clearly in this society, the Jesuit missionaries had their way over the Guaraní indigenous community that was forced to either conform to the ways of life within the mission or face slavery to other European settlers outside the mission walls. Sam, Stacy and I first spent some time inside the Mission's historical museum, reading about the history of both peoples (Guaraní and Jesuit missionaries), listening to their music and languages and looking at various artifacts. Outside the museum, we briefly joined a guided tour group and gained a more in-depth historical perspective. But, enough of my narrative, here are some pictures of the mission with (brief and hopefully accurate) descriptions:

Road leading into San Ignacio (site of the ruins)

Front of the historical cultural museum for the mission.

View from directly in front of the cathedral ruins at the mission. The cathedral was the heart of activity in the mission, both in its physical placement and in its spiritual importance emphasized by the missionaries.

Photo of the entrance to the baptismal font. The stone carving above the archway depicts Jesus' baptism in the River Jordan by John the Baptist.

Petrified wood in one corner of the cathedral's structure- very cool :)

View across the vast plaza in front of the mission's cathedral. This yard/plaza was HUGE! While I don't know precisely all the community activities that took place here in the mission's years of functioning, it was certainly an incredible, vast space for the mission inhabitants to interact.

Returning to Posadas, we walked along the costanera (riverside promenade along the Río Paraná) for a while, taking in the normal cultural activity that usually accompanies this setting: people drinking mate, walking their dogs, sitting and chatting, running or rollerblading, fishing, enjoying a beer, etc. We happened to pass a restaurant featuring Mexican and Arabic cuisine and decided to eat dinner there. While there are countless things that I enjoy about Argentine food, I definitely miss hot and spicy foods that are so common in my diet in the United States. Most Argentines simply do not enjoy these striking flavors and thus, I had few real expectations of encountering, at this restaurant, anything similar to the Mexican food I am most familiar with in the U.S. My meal consisted of two small beef burritos that more closely resembled what I would call fajitas in the U.S. but were still very good. The salsa that came with them was flavorful (but, as anticipated, not spicy) and the accompanying "sour cream" was some type of ricotta cheese spread (yum!). Here are a couple pictures of our evening along the costanera:

View across the Paraná River to Paraguay from Posadas.

The Paraná River again- this time, a view of the Posadas costanera.

This picture really doesn't do the moon justice but it was HUGE when it rose. We were sitting at the Mexican & Arabic restaurant having dinner when it came up over the horizon.

Parts II and III, featuring Puerto Iguazú and the Iguazú Falls (more widely known here as simply las cataratas [the waterfalls]), to come soon on my weekend travels. It was a great weekend, but at the same time, I'm glad to be back in Resistencia and in more of a daily routine at San Fernando. Lots of love to all reading this, whether you are near or far!

To the Polls!

I kind of kicked myself in the butt today when I realized that I haven't yet written one word regarding politics, despite the fact that it's an election year here in Argentina (well, I haven't written about politics officially anyways. I'm a believer that everything is political in one way or another...). General elections will be held in late October so there will be plenty of political news and debates to share between now and then.

A few important things to note about Argentina's government and electoral system: First, the government is modeled after the United States' government structure (yes, an intentional imitation) with a president and vice president and a two-house National Congress, composed of the Chamber of Deputies of the Nation (257 officials serve four-year terms) and the Senate of the Nation (72 officials serve six-year terms).
Voting is compulsory for Argentines between 18 and 70 years of age. I've heard a few comments from Argentines as far as this regulation is concerned, most interesting of which has been descriptions of how its enforcement occurs in rural areas of the country.  In many of these smaller towns, especially those with significant indigenous populations, politicians or the election board officials will show up with food bribes in exchange for the people's votes. Each voting system clearly has its flaws.

It's illegal for foreigners to contribute financially to political campaigns. Darn! I was definitely hoping I could do that while I was here... Oh well, I guess I join plenty of others prohibited from contributing financially to campaigns, including: those who would like to donate anonymously; Argentines who don't reside in country; those who run gambling establishments; those who might be obligated to do so on behalf of their bosses; trade unions, whether management or professional; service businesses or national public works agencies at the provincial or municipal level; and centralized or decentralized entities organized at levels classified as: national, provincial, inter-provincial, bi- or multinational, municipal, or the autonomous city of Buenos Aires.  Loosely translated from this government website, I include all these provisions to show that regulations seem to be necessary in a wide variety of contexts here to reign in the spectacle that can take place when elections take center stage of a country's politics.

Argentina's current president is Cristina Kirchner. Yes, amidst the machísmo culture that exists here (sometimes glaringly so) there is a woman in the Pink House (no gender puns here. Argentina's building that houses the president's work space is actually called la Casa Rosada, the Pink House). She began her term as president in 2007 and has not offered a definitive answer about whether she will seek re-election this fall. I think this is a great living example of the fluidity found in Argentine culture and people's general approach to life.

As Argentina's politics take on the race to the electoral finish line in October I'll include more observations, hopefully insightful, on how politics, narrowly understood, interacts with the larger culture and other international entities. My blog will experience a short hiatus following this post as we approach the Easter holiday weekend and I board another of Argentina's lovely coach travel buses. :) Most of the country closes for Thursday through Sunday and I'm taking full advantage of my time off this weekend.  On the docket: old mission settlements of Posadas and Iguazu Falls! Hopefully I will have plenty of my own pictures, even better than those from this linked website, to post on Monday when I return!

Confirmed: Teresa is from the country

What an excellent, excellent adventure today! This afternoon I hopped on a colectivo (bus) to Puerto Tirol, a smaller town (population approximately 15,000) about 20 km northwest of Resistencia, to meet with Viviana Marilin Cimbaro Canella. Viviana was also a Fulbright recipient who worked as a Spanish Teaching Assistant at Simpson College in Indianola, Iowa in 2005 & 2006; her contact information had been passed on to me from the Fulbright Commission last November. Since then, we had exchanged a few e-mails, mostly prior to my departure from the United States but also more recently in a game of e-mail tag to try and arrange an in-person meeting. Finally, though, we set a date for me to come visit and I was both excited and nervous to make this first trip to the "country" of Argentina.

Here, I need to explain a bit about a few of the dichotomies that exist in the ways that Argentines classify themselves and others in the country.  The first, and clearest, of these divisions exists between those Argentines who are from Buenos Aires, los porteños (meaning: people of the port) and those who are from any other part of the country (also called the interior). Much like in New York where those who live in "the city" fall into one category and those who live, well...in "the rest of the state" fall into another, Argentina has its own distinct stereotypes about individuals who live in specific parts of the country. Porteños generally perceive themselves as more modern, more efficient and more sophisticated than Argentines who live in the internior, and Argentines of the interior see porteños as pushy individuals, too busy and certainly more preoccupied with themselves than they should be.  It was amusing, at the least, to see these stereotypes played out in real life as I spent a few days in Buenos Aires for orientation upon first arriving for my grant. Everyone who worked for the Fulbright Commission and Argentina's Ministry of Education was a porteño and all of the Fulbright scholars' referentes were from the interior. Yep, pretty hilarious to see these two groups interact and even more humorous to observe how openly all Argentines will discuss their opinions of these stereotypes and how they/others reinforce them.

Similar stereotypes exist in each province (or, at least in the Chaco province where I live) for those who live in the biggest/capital city versus those who live in the smaller towns/country lands of the province. I live in Resistencia, the capital city of the Chaco province, and when I told a guy at dinner tonight (in Resistencia) that I had been to Puerto Tirol, his eyes got plenty larger and he exlaimed "Gueyyy, el campo (whoaaaa, the country)." Here again, there seems to be an assumed air of sophistication, sometimes a sentiment of superiority for those that live in more densely populated areas of the province. This topic is on tap for some further critical thought, but I digress. Let's return to my afternoon in Puerto Tirol.

I stepped off the bus in town after showing the bus driver the directions that Viviana had given to me. I had been in touch with her via text message just before leaving Resistencia but there seemed to be nothing of familiarity as I stepped off the bus in this new place... Fortunately, that was absolutely the last moment that I felt that way the entire afternoon as I was quickly approached by Yara and Daniel, two students of San Fernando Rey (the institute where I teach) who also live in Puerto Tirol. They walked with me to Viviana's home where we got to know one another a little better over mate, a delicious cake that Yara had baked especially for my visit, some good conversation and even a bit of entertainment, courtesy of Viviana's adorable two-year-old daughter. Between this little lady's: constant babbling about how their dogs were dirty so they had to be outside, coloring escapades, and exuberant dancing to Wheels on the Bus, I was nearly rolling on the floor in laughter. Later, Viviana, Yara, Daniel and I went on a short walk around town to see some of the primary places where people gather and, en route, to try torta a la parrilla (Cake from the grill), a regional specialty that I could most closely identify as a treat resembling Indian naan bread. Daniel and Viviana saw me back to Resistencia from the bus stop in front of the town's main plaza...

Yara, Daniel, VIviana and her daughter, and I at Viviana's kitchen table

Comfortable would assuredly be the most accurate adjective to describe my interactions this afternoon. Maybe the most comfortable situation that I have been in since arriving just over a month ago! I can't exactly put my finger on why I felt this way: my speaking/listening abilities hadn't magically improved 500%, I was in a totally new environment with individuals I had never met face-to-face before and I was being asked to consider potential volunteer opportunities in this small town I was visiting only for the first time. At the same time, I can't seem to escape the notion that being in the "country" of Argentina had something to do with me feeling this sense of comfort. There were clothes hung up to dry in Viviana's back yard, Viviana and her younger counterparts exchanged greetings with numerous people as we traversed Puerto Tirol's streets, and the young people across the street alerted us when my colectivo was arriving (something I don't think I would expect of others in the city). The tentative conclusion for the day is that I- Teresa Young of Payne, Ohio, country girl- was amidst something vaguely familiar with its own cultural distinctions. I think I shall be spending more time in Puerto Tirol in the near future....

But Mom, I'm not tired!...

This week's flurry of activity with classes was something that I had been anxiously yearning for the past couple weeks. It was a phenomenal feeling not only to have a defined sense of purpose again but also to simply be back in the classroom, among students who are grappling with their course material.  Thursday I returned to classes at the university and sat in on a language and grammar course, the first course which I had attended in which I felt I could be of real assistance in teaching. I also attended a course called an integrative workshop by this training institute. Specifically designed to be more general in its content, this course allows students to practice what they have learned in phonetics and language & grammar courses, as well as encourages the application of knowledge from their other linguistics and pedagogical courses. The teaching institute at which I am working is structured as such so that all students of the first year take the same courses, second year students share a collection of courses, and so on up through the fourth and final year. Although I have only observed the program for one week, I am highly in favor of the element that this integrative course brings to the students' academic experiences. I think it gives each student a practical chance to reinforce important grammatical and linguistic concepts and (hopefully) rethink critically other cultural and pedagogical theories presented to them in other courses.

Monday I will have my first experience in front of a class! One instructor who has to attend a professional association board meeting on Monday morning has asked me to stand in for her. While her course is normally a language and grammar course, I won't be conquering a lesson by myself this time around. Instead, she has asked me to have a discussion hour so that her students can, primarily, practice speaking, learn more about cultural values around leisure time and get to know me a bit better. I'm excited to see how the students respond to the class discussion activities I have planned!

I also returned to volunteer this past Friday in two classes of junior high English at the school across the plaza from where I live. Although I felt relatively scattered in my presentation to the first class, I think I made some key changes and hit the nail on the head in the second course. My cultural lesson for these students: A Typical School Day in the U.S. In both classes, we worked on developing some new English vocabulary related to the school environment. Taking a closer look at the chronological arrangement of a student's schedule was probably the most enlightening, and easily most entertaining part of my lesson for the students. Their jaws dropped and there was widespread laughter as I shared about: a chart to track students' punctuality in turning in homework, how students all eat lunch at school together, and how dinner is eaten at 7:00 pm followed not too long thereafter with going to bed. In contrast, these students are accustomed to having no homework (Claudia, their teacher shared with me that she has basically been prohibited from officially giving her students homework), being at home with their families for lunch, and eating dinner at a much later hour like 10:00 pm which dramatically changes their bedtime as well. I can just see the situation that would materialize should one of these students move to the US or study as an exchange student... Nine o'clock rolls around after dinner and that whiny voice emerges, But Mom, I'm not tired! :) One thing is for certain: in the three short hours that I spend at this school, the students teach me as much, if not more, than I end up teaching them. I'm definitely going to enjoy volunteering with them.

Health Clinics and Basketball

I have sucessfully navigated a medical facility here in Resistencia to obtain an EKG and ergometrics test! I'm pretty sure that this goes down in the books as my most significant success for the week. Before anyone starts freaking out about why I would need such tests (namely my parents with whom I haven't shared any of this yet!), rest assured that I am in good health. In fact, the medical professionals who I saw today would probably tell you I am in great health. :) So, I'll end with these tests but I'm going to rewind one week to explain how I've gotten here....

As you may remember if you read this post, I met a young woman my age named Yaneth (pronounced much like Janet, in English, with an 'h' sound at the end) in the plaza in front of my house last Monday. Yaneth invited me to join her at a basketball practice for a club team on which she plays here in Resistencia. Certainly not one to pass up an invitation for anything, much less an invite to play some basketball, I went with her last Tuesday to Club Sarmiento to check it out. What an awesome fit! While our post-practice 5-on-5 play is often more crazy/relaxed/borderline out-of-control than the most laid back open gyms I had at Denison, I have had a ton of fun with these ladies and look forward to spending more time with them, both on and off the court to learn more about their lives. They have been especially welcoming and I definitely feel like I have learned much from them already.  Below is a photo of the Club Sarmiento main court/arena; it appears to be an extremely well kept facility. Although I have yet to actually play on this court (not sure how much priority the women ever get in scheduling of the facility...):

This next photo is just outside the indoor court/arena. There are two full length basketball courts (one that has nets on the rims)  and an area primarily used for field hockey practices. Beyond the courts seen here are some tennis courts, and to the right, behind the arena building is a small building of locker rooms and a large pool.

Wanting to play with this club team, one of my obligations became obtaining a physical, including the EKG and ergometrics test (i.e. attach electrodes all over my test and complete an approximately 5 minute treadmill run of increasing speed and incline to monitor my heart in action). My health facility saga began yesterday afternoon as I was directed to a facility called Sanatorio Cordis; arriving there mid-afternoon, I was told that without an appointment, I would have to return the next morning at 8 am to be seen for the health tests that I needed.  I rose with the sun this morning and headed back to the facility-- I should preface the day's events with the reflection that after living here for just one month, I have already become very accustomed to patiently waiting for indefinite amounts of time...or, at the least waiting, if not always patiently, through these extended periods (including but not limited to the post office, asados, anyplace that I actually arrive on time, basketball practice, and waiting for rides from others). 

I took a number at 8 am and was scheduled to return at 9 am when the day's health screenings would begin.  With an hour to kill, I headed to a nearby cafe to enjoy a cup of coffee, juice and a couple medialunas (typical Argentina breakfast). I returned at 9 am and waited a while before being seen to complete the EKG. Waited some more. Then I was seen by the doctor who was both extremely nice and attentive to the fact that he shouldn't speak 100 miles an hour while using more complex medical terminology with my developing language skills. :) Visited reception again, was directed to another waiting room. Waited some more (seeing the pattern?) and eventually entered a final room to complete the ergometrics test. The tech administering the test was probably the third person to ask me if I was sure I would be ok doing the test in the jeans that I was wearing...with some persistence I convinced him that, yes, I would be fine in my jeans and tennis shoes. I'm happy to report that I was cleared on both tests! The tech who administered my ergometrics test said, after looking at its results, that I appeared to be a deportista de verdad (a true athlete), despite the fact that I have certainly exercised much less than I would like since my arrival. Hour of conclusion at the medical facility: 12 Noon. Yep, a grand total of 4 hours.

In other work news, classes have gone well this week! A large assembly of all the program's students on Monday allowed me to meet a variety of people. Plus, I was introduced to the group at large and also had the chance to talk a little bit about myself and how I hope to be able to help in the program this year.  Obviously with a couple hundred students in the program, I have not met everyone but already I've had some great conversations with people and have felt welcomed (not unlike any other time I have encountered new faces and environments here). Yesterday I attended both a history and a linguistics course and plan to meet with my referente tomorrow to develop a schedule for classes in which we expect I might be most helpful as an assistant. Life is good and God is good. Much love to you all.

Yerba Mate

As I continue to provide snapshots of life here in Resistencia (often applicable to Argentina at large), yerba mate will take center stage for today's blog post.  Yerba mate, or most often simply "mate," is a traditional drink rooted in the Guaraní indigenous people's (natives of Northeast Argentina) history. At the end of the 16th century, it was introduced to Jesuit missionaries in Argentina who learned to cultivate it. After various sociopolitical periods of fluctuation in production, significant mate cultivation remains in Argentina, largely in the northeast province of Misiones.  Enough of the dry history lesson, huh?!, and on to why it's an important part of the culture in which I am living!
Mate is a loose leaf tea that is always drunk out of a gourd, also called a mate.  This is a typical mate on the left with a leather (or leather-like ouside and metal rim.

Although, a mate can also have a less typical form like the one here on the right.  This mate owned by one of my roommates is actually a bull's horn, hollowed out for the purpose of drinking mate. The tea is put into the mate and always settles at a slant (not really sure why this occurs but it does); then, a bit of hot water is poured into the crater-like portion of the tea leaves and the metal straw (called a bombilla) is inserted. The mate is ready to drink at this point and usually the owner of the mate (the cebador) will take the first sips as the tea is still very strong. These final steps of pouring a bit of water into the mate and then drinking it will be repeated over and over and over until the mate loses its flavor or the owner runs out of water. Thus, inevitably, if someone has a mate with them, they also likely are carrying a rather large thermos of hot water. However, the owner of the mate will certainly not be the only one to drink; one of the most important things about mate is that it is a communal drink/activity.  Friends will get together to sit and drink mate, colleagues might do so in the office, in the plaza, on a front step, on the bus to somewhere, in a courtyard during a break between university classes....well, you get the picture that Argentines drink mate just about anywhere.

A few other important mate etiquette facts:
-If you are offered mate by someone, you're "in." That is to say that they trust you and value your presence in the group setting wherever you are interacting.
-If you are offered mate, it is relatively rude to refuse it. Even if you don't especially like the tea, you should take a first sip then politely decline further offers.
-If offered mate, NEVER wipe off the bombilla before drinking (no matter how unsanitary you might think this practice of sharing is) as this is considered super, super rude.

There is also a cold form of mate called tereré. Essentially the same concepts guide the tea preparation but cold water is used in place of hot water, often for refreshment on days of especially hot weather. I have tried this cold mate made not only with water but also with a kind of lemon flavored water, other carbonated fruit juice, Sprite and....Coke (which, with the mate, created a rather interesting flavor...). I'm happy to say that I've had mate with several different people here since arriving and I definitely enjoy both the drink and the experience.  Soon enough I'm sure I will buy my own mate as I sort of miss being able to carry around a mug of coffee with me when I need refreshment and/or caffeine.

In other very exciting news, my classes begin MONDAY!! I'm clearly extremely anxious to meet students, sit in classes and be working with the program's professors.  This weekend held its share of adventures: Friday evening I attended church and hung out with some friends chatting about all kinds of Argentine and US foods, Saturday I hit up a garage sale, visited my fellow ETA in the nearby city of Corrientes and went to a super cheap indie concert in my neighborhood featuring Barro (check out their sound on their myspace page- awesome concert!). I also met for the first time at this concert a wonderful couple, Seba and Lorena, and their son, Yami, with whom I had been in touch through a previous Fulbright ETA. Sunday, Seba and Lorena invited me to an asado with their family in a local park, where we hung out for much of the afternoon, enjoying a live band's music and the dancing that inherently accompanies aforementioned music here in Argentina.  CLASSES TOMORROW!! EEeee....I feel like a kindergarten student again, so enthused about my first day of class. Yes, you are free to laugh at/with me. :)  Much love to all.

"What's up?"

My recent adventures of the last two days have included: introducing myself to the professors and the newest matriculating students at San Fernando Rey where I will be teaching, searching out and introducing myself to a professor at the city's university in whose class I hope to attend over the next couple months (and obtaining e-mail addresses for two other profs who weren't at the university when I visited), sitting in on another couple English classes at a school near my house, and playing some basketball with the local club team.  All of the above mentioned activities went exceptionally well and I'll share more news on several of them soon.

I wanted, though, to share a brief reflection from my time spent at the local school in English classes with junior high aged students.  These students (to the best of my knowledge from asking questions so far...) attend a school that operates on a block schedule format, in which some of their core subject classes meet every day and other classes like English meet only twice, or maybe even only once, per week. Claudia Gomez, the teacher in whose class I have been observing, confirmed my initial thoughts that this scheduling creates a serious lack of time for her as a teacher to implement comprehensive, effective lessons and real language practice for her students. However, I stray from the point that I want to convey: Claudia's other pressing concern is that some of her students have yet to purchase their books, despite the fact that they have been in school for a couple of weeks already if I'm not mistaken. While public education is free in Argentina, the students have to purchase their textbooks (at the least for this Spanish course). It appears that this delay in purchasing happens for a variety of reasons, one of them being that the students and their parents have to go to their local bookstore to find these materials. When several schools/teachers decide to use the same text for their class (as, Claudia shared, is often the case), this creates a sudden shortage of books for the students' needs.  Students have to wait in these circumstances for new books to be shipped to the store.  While I do not know if this is the case for all classes (that students must purchase their own textbooks), I imagine that it might be \and that similar delays in commencing with curriculum materials may occur in other subjects too.

As a result, my thoughts drift to the pro's and con's of this textbook provision practice related to my own public school experiences in the United States. For me, to think about giving two thumbs up to a foreign language textbook, I would certainly expect up-to-date vocabulary. Other necessary elements would be highlights of relatively recent cultural icons and events, at least brief coverage on diversity of the people in place(s)/country(ies) where the foreign language is used, hopefully media in the form of music, audio conversations or short films (at least in the teacher's addition to share at large with the class but even better if the student has his/her own cd or access to an on-line resource bank), etc. Yes, I have many expectations. The book that the students are using here, titled "What's up?" has many of these elements. Recalling my own high school Spanish textbooks, I know I could say little of the same as the books were nearly 20 years old-- no exaggeration. Nonetheless, there was no question that every student in my Spanish class had a textbook from day one. Which is the greater sacrifice: the educational material's quality or the students' time in the school? What is the teacher's role in each of these situations to fill the gap created by the system in which they work? And thus, this academic debate will ruminate in my brain and most inevitably become more complex as I spend more time in the schools here.

Also, I'm going to have to make time to write these posts at a different time of day. There is no way I can be up til 2 am at night when classes start next week....

Being back on the grid and all things sports

My new phone, charging as it is currently dead.

I made it almost a whole month here without a cell phone and, in my opinion, was doing fairly well! I was certainly able to both meet new people and stay in touch via e-mail and in person with my primary contacts in the Fulbright program. What a liberating feeling to not be tied 24/7 to other individuals (most of whom I likely enjoy spending time with very much!) when I am not in their immediate presence!  But, lo and behold, my immediate reality is that the vast majority of individuals in Resistencia have cell phones, making my purchase of a phone truly a necessity for maintaining relationships with new friends and colleagues. Without said phone, plans to meet up with friends, obtain a ride from someone (very important as I don't have a car or bike) or hear about last minute changes all become more complicated as other parties involved in the situation depend daily on communicating via their cell phones. Thus, I headed to Personal (one of the cell phone companies here) today with one of the guys that I live with and walked away successfully with my social existence's new lifeline in hand. Ultimately a good life decision and sound financial investment for my time spent in Resistencia.


My other most recent news comes from playing volleyball with some new friends. Sunday afternoon's asado included some nonchalant passing and setting which quickly made me eager for real playing time... Monday evening I met with friends at the court that ended up being a patchy grassy portion of land, its regulation lines chalked much like a softball or baseball diamond is chalked in the US. Nonetheless, the group that I met with conducted the first half of our time together like a regular practice (excellent warm up for me as I haven't played in several weeks) and the latter half in actual games. I have to say, I think I actually enjoyed all of the warming up and basic drills even better than playing for a few reasons. First, our court had no lights of its own; our play was illuminated by the lighting of several nearby buildings.  This made playing on one half of the court particularly difficult. Second, conversations during drills were a little more direct, allowing my ears to pick up on some of the slang and technical terms used in the game (more so than during actual games where the banter between teams/teammates is less directed and more rapid fire). Finally, as I am so accustomed to playing on either indoor or sand courts, not being able to dive for the ball just about killed the competitive spirit in me. Not being able to lay out to dig a hit and pop back up to simply dust the sand off myself made me miss the sand courts LOTS. Despite all this, I gained some excellent new vocabulary related to playing volleyball and connected with some new individuals. Overall, a win. :)

In other sporting news, tonight marked possibly one of the most exciting moments since my arrival in Resistencia with a new acquaintance that I made out on the plaza. I had just finished my run and was stretching my legs out on a set of bars when a young lady, named Yaneth, approached me and asked if I practiced any particular sport (pretty sure my basketball shorts gave me away. I haven't seen one other woman wearing them here yet). Of course I shared that I played basketball and was basically on cloud nine when she offered up that I should come practice with their team here in the city!  Not too many blocks from my house is Club Saramiento where they practice a few times a week; Yaneth shared that they travel to some of the nearby provinces to participate in tournaments as well. This meeting couldn't come at a better time as I have been thinking often over the past few days about how I might implement my originally proposed project: organized recreation focused on diversifying young Argentine girls' life experiences and sharing some of the life skills gained by participation in team sports/activities. Plus, I definitely will not be passing up any chances to play some hoops and continue to expand my contacts and friends here! More news certainly to come on that front....

Tomorrow I get to introduce myself to the new students of the English teacher training program at my university. Let the adventures begin!

Bowling!

The age-old adage goes: a picture is worth a thousand words.  However, a photo wouldn't really do much to enhance any sort of cultural understanding about my experience going bowling last night with friends; it would essentially show may of the same things that I am culturally accustomed to in the United States.  Thus, a more descriptive sort of sharing will have to do (plus, I sort of forgot to take any photos of the bowling part of the facility. oops! :) In truth though, a photo wouldn't have shown anything much different than in the US)

The bowling adventure last night took us a couple kilometers outside Resistencia's official city limits to La Libertad, a small shopping complex consisting of a huge grocery store, an open area that was being used as a dance/reception hall while we were there, and a small bowling alley of about 8 lanes. Adjacent to the bowling lanes in the same building were also a variety of arcade games: air hockey, a foosball table, a couple video games and a few pool tables. With all seven lanes occupied (one seemed to be out of service) we ordered a pizza, played some games of foosball and air hockey, and chatted for a while to pass the time until there was a lane available. Up to this point in the evening's events, everything I experienced was obviously pretty similar to the cultural framework that I have for bowling in the United States. Bowling itself was certainly another story; a game with more than its share of new challenges for me in Argentina....

• Special bowling shoes are not required nor does there seem to be a standard for staying behind the line marking the head of the bowling lane. In my time spent at the alley, I saw various children walk halfway down the lane numerous times to make their throw. The lanes are still fairly slick which makes this walk fairly dangerous and potentially hilarious.
• The lanes are certainly not a smooth, level plane.  Thus, throwing the ball each frame becomes a rather interesting mental calculation, unique to each lane in which you might play. This part was particularly amusing for me.
• There seemed to be three weights of bowling balls: small, medium and large. None of these were marked so I really don't know how much any of them weighed.
• Yes, there are 10 pins and yes, they are initially arranged in a triangle formation. However, each of the 10 pins has its own string/cord attached to its top (i.e. when you knock a pin down in the first half of a frame, its cord just becomes a bit looser. The pin is drawn up above the lane for the second throw then all pins are replaced upright, obviously, for the next frame). This cord is the mechanism for resetting the pins at the end of each frame. I also think this aspect of the game made the pins generally harder to knock down as they can't take on a free course of falling/spinning to, in turn, knock down other pins (because they are instead tethered to the cord and a machine above).

I think the high score was 50-something for a full ten frame game, illustrating just how difficult bowling is with all the above factors in play.  Nonetheless we had a blast and I certainly didn't notice how late it was as the night progressed.  Our adventure started at midnight when we left the church from a birthday gathering (stories to come on birthday celebrations...) and I think it was probably close to 2:30 by the time we started bowling.  This put me home around, oh, 4 am...yep, totally normal in Argentina.

New friends at the bowling alley!

Sculptures galore, new faces and La Guerra de Malvinas

The last two days in Resistencia have been pretty excellent. I truly can't say enough about the hospitality extended to me here as a visitor/newcomer of the city and country.  Hopefully, my reflections on the events of the last two days will be vivid enough to simply show how I have experienced such a warm welcome...because I don't think there are ever sufficient words, in quantity or descriptive qualities, to share these feelings related to being welcomed into a new environment. Plus, I'm in need of a little uplift after my Debbie Downer post yesterday...sorry again about that. Cheers -I mean "Here's"- to today! ;)

Thursday, Hannah arrived from Corrientes mid-morning and we headed out for the site of the biannual sculpture festival/competition.  Unfortunately, the competition was held last year and won't be held again until July 2012, but, nonetheless, it is an intriguing thing to be living in the nation's capital of sculptures.  Smaller sculptures lined the avenue leading to this important place of Resistencia's art culture, but it was a different, almost breath-taking experience to see this site revered among sculptors for the first time. Gracing the vast front lawn of this small museum are numerous large sculptures of competitions past, many reaching a height of a guesstimated 10 feet!  Hannah and I perused the front lawn for a bit and then headed inside the fairly large one room museum also showcasing a variety of pieces.  When the guide offered to show us a short video promoting the sculpture event, we certainly said yes and, in the process, got a more extended history of the city and the sculpture competition's origins and ongoing legacy. After eagerly soaking up what I could about these histories, the guide also offered to us: tourist materials for the Chaco province (expected but also very useful as they included a new map with suggestions for restaurants, bars and other cultural centers of the city), a poster advertising next year's competition and a postcard of a sculpture in the city (room decorations!), and a copy of the DVD that we had watched while visiting the museum. What fun culturally relevant texts I have to share with others about where I have lived!

After the museum, it was on to Chabela's, my referente's, house where we shared lunch with her family. With a new face at the table, conversation was lively and entertaining (not out of the ordinary I suppose. haha).  We shall fast forward through the post-lunch conversations that we had (see my previous post) and go straight to my discovery of a small grocery store and separate fruit & vegetable market on the same street corner! This is primarily noted as a successful part of the day because these markets will be on my route home from work.  Post-neighborhood wandering, I decided that a run was definitely in order so I laced up my shoes and went out on my first run since being here.  What an awesome feeling to hit the pavement for the first time in too long!  Top the day off with a two hour Skype chat with my sister and I was pretty content.

Friday included numerous other adventures in the city.  The day started off with an unsuccessful attempt to meet up with my other referente who works for the ministry of education.  Nonetheless, this "failure" allowed me to spend the rest of my morning exploring more of the city and visiting the museum that highlights the history of mass communication in Resistencia. Here, I learned about radio, the newspaper, and film & television in the Chaco province and in larger Argentina.  Following lunch with my referente's family, I decided to pursue my introduction to a local middle school English teacher with whom I had been put in contact earlier in the week (huge thanks go out to prior Fulbright ETA in Resistencia, Stephen!).  By marvelous chance, this school where Stephen had volunteered during his time here is on the same plaza where I live! An attentive young lady from the main office immediately took me to Claudia Gomez's room where I was warmly welcomed by her and her students and seamlessly integrated into their classroom environment. Their lessons for the day included how to use the verb "to be" (I am Teresa, I am from Payne, Ohio, etc.) but with my attendance in the classroom, the lesson's trajectory turned to the students asking me questions using this verb and many, many other questions that quickly swam to the forefront of their brains .  Claudia shared with me later that she was simply amazed at how many of the students were willing to speak up and ask questions of me (relative to their normal participation tendencies). I am enthused at the possibility of volunteering in this classroom and maybe another at this school :) The school day ended a bit early with a collective assembly to honor soldiers of La Guerra de Malvinas [The Malvinas War] (or, better known to much of the rest of the world, as the Falkland Islands) in 1982. This included singing among the students and reading of a few texts, which I'm not sure anyone could hear/understand at various times because of the sound system's garbled amplification. After school I went with Claudia to meet with some of her friends at Innova Club, a business of sorts that offers classes, so far, on web design and English for travelers. It was great to meet some of Claudia's friends and just chill, drinking mate for a couple hours.  As if I hadn't had enough history for the day, I went next to a cultural center on the central plaza for a memorial exhibit and film on La Guerra de Malvinas. A few veterans of the war welcomed the small crowd that had come and I was personally approached and welcomed by a gentleman who works there at the center. He offered me various texts on the cultural center's main focus (memory in honor of those persecuted, tortured and/or killed during Argentina's military dictatorship) including a full length book produced by the nation's commission on human rights. The commission's hope in giving these books to visitors is that they would be carried to every corner of the earth possible so that such atrocities of abuse in governmental power would not happen again.

I basically crashed after all this and enjoyed a super simple pasta dinner with some grapes that I bought from the guys selling fruits and vegetables across the street from us- Love, love, love these places to buy fresh produce on random streets throughout the city.

My love and many, many hugs to friends and family in the US and abroad that I miss dearly-- you are thought of fondly here in Resistencia.