My points to ponder that follow might seem a bit strange but, I promise, they do have a point. Bear with me and just play along for a bit... :)
When was the last time that you thought seriously about: your mannerisms when you walk down the street? why you prefer (or don't prefer) your most normal forms of transportation, whether it be walking, taking a public or school bus or driving your own car? your mannerisms while in transit through these common, everyday routes? When was the last time you pondered why you brush your teeth before you get dressed in the morning but after you've put in your contacts? or why you seek out the company of select individuals in your life? or why you choose to put on one pair of shoes in lieu of another to run errands in town? When was the last time that you picked up the local paper and really thought about the political agenda behind the stories written within its pages? or where you can break a large bill so that you have change for the bus or a snack from a street vendor? or about how your education has shaped who you are today, and not only what you have learned but also how you have learned it?
At some moment in the recent past, I have been stirred to think about all of these things, primarily because I am living in a context that has plucked me from many familiarities of North American culture. I've been living in Argentina for three full months (seriously?! not sure where that time has gone!), and there are certainly some things to which I have become accustomed. I cooked dinner at 11 pm last night after talking with my family on skype and wasn't phased in the least by how late I was eating. Of course this cultural adjustment has included eating a post-siesta snack (also part of Argentine tradition) so I'm not dying of hunger at 10 or 11 pm. When I get dressed in the morning I remember not only to think about the weather outside but how warm or cold I might be in a cement block classroom. And I (almost) always remember to pay at the grocery store with a 100 peso bill so that I can have change for whenever I might need it next.
I find it kind of intriguing sometimes to ponder how difficult and/or less enjoyable my life could actually be here if I refused to let go of certain cultural habits that I have in the United States and embrace others that are waiting for me here. A prime example: purchasing bread. I realize this example might sound rather trivial, but if I refused to learn the various breads available at the local bakery and, instead, insisted on buying sandwich bread at the grocery store, I would be missing out on a HUGE part of Argentine culture. Anyone can tell you that the fresh-baked bread from a panadería tastes 100 times better than any packaged bread shipped to a store. Plus, with bakeries on every other corner, I have no reason to seek out the loaf bread that I am so accustomed to eating in the United States. If all of that wasn't reason enough, this delicious bread from local shops is dirt cheap. Thus, my decision becomes rather easy to frequent Panadería 9 de julio that sits just on the other side of the plaza where I live.
On to a second, slightly more serious, example of this cultural framework construction that is happening in my life: Recently I have thought about buying another pair of boots. I could actually use another pair in my wardrobe and I have no shortage of selection in the dozens of quality shoe stores found here in Resistencia. And then it struck me last week as I engaged in a discussion about gender roles in a Language and Grammar class at work, that even footwear in this culture makes a very gendered statement. I had a coincidental conversation the next day about this same issue with another woman (I'll call her Anna) who is not from here. Anna said she has a friend who told her that she needed to wear high-heeled shoes to a particular event. When Anna questioned why (because high heels truly aren't absolutely necessary for this event), her friend couldn't give her a definitive answer; the friend's response was something more like "well, well, you just need to do it." Anna shared with me that she realizes this perspective comes from Argentine women's general need/cultural habit of dressing in extremely feminine ways (of course there are always exceptions to cultural generalities too). I won't go too deep into the intricacies of the machísmo culture in which I live; that would take ages. However, I will say that my own expectations for the ways that relationships develop and function based on gender have been challenged in every way imaginable as I interact with men and women here on a daily basis. I have thought recently about why I value my individual independence and which gender expectations I might or might not be constrained by here in Argentina. I have thought about the ways in which I might be allowed to be an "exception" to the rule because I am the extranjera. I ponder how my relationships with men and women are constructed and maintained differently than those same types of relationships in the United States. Sometimes I try and stick to every principle of gender equality in which I believe, occasionally (unfortunately) doing so is just too taxing and I act according to norms that I wouldn't really say are my own, and sometimes I find a compromise somewhere in the middle. Truly, life has thrown me so many twists and turns related to gender that I would have a difficult time knowing where to begin if you asked me for a generalization of how I felt, being a woman in Resistencia, Chaco.
At the least I conclude that I must continue looking beyond "the little things" of cultural difference in my living-learning experiences here. You know, beyond those things that we can identify on first observances of a culture: the way people greet one another with kisses, traffic patterns, classroom rites and rituals, etc. In the nuances of life-- in the relationships, everyday conversations, random interactions in the street, and body gestures, we find encoded our most deeply rooted life values.
In other headline news: Teresa claims her first package from customs at the post office! My parents sent a package on April 25th, it arrived on May 26th and I finally had time to go pick it up today, June 15th. Yes, mail is slow but my delay in collecting the package was due to: one, the customs part of the post office is only open Monday, Wednesday and Friday from 9 am to noon (I only have Wednesdays free in the morning...), two, because foreign mail is shipped to Barranqueras which is a town basically connected to Resistencia but still requires that I take a bus to arrive there, and three, Cassie was here visiting the last couple weeks. Anyways, I arrived at the Barranqueras post office this morning and gave the man at the counter my package claim slip. I then had to wait about half an hour at which point a customs agent arrived. I was asked to open my package for them to examine all its contents; they laughed a little when I explained that one of the smaller bags in my package said I wasn't to open it til my birthday (May 29th). I also laughed to myself as the mail attendant assisted a little old lady next to me with her packaging. She seemed to be sending through the mail a full package of candy and sweets. They shook one of the small candy boxes and asked her what was inside. She kind of chuckled and said, Candy of course. with a little prize inside the box. They proceeded to ask her if there were drugs; she sort of laughed again and responded with amusement, Of course not. you could open it and look if you want. Thankfully they didn't; I can imagine a grandchild of this little old lady opening the box full of candy with wide eyes and a sweet tooth. She basically made my morning. :-P I would say that the only downside of my fairly smooth mail experience is that I was required to pay "half" the value of the contents inside to collect my mail. First birthday present I've ever been asked to pay for. hehe Oh well...I guess there is a first for everything.
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