- Voting is compulsory. As I briefly mentioned in a prior post, voting is mandatory for citizens here in Argentina. Each individual's officially declared address determines in which municipality s/he votes; I have numerous students, for example, who live here in Resistencia but have not officially changed their address, and thus, travel back to their towns in other parts of Chaco to vote on election day. Individuals unable to be in their town on election day cannot complete an absentee ballot per say like I am able to do in the states (at least as far as I have been able to decipher voting procedures/regulations). However, if they happen to be over 500 kilometers from their home, an individual is not required to report to vote and can, instead, report to the local police station on the day of elections, wherever they happen to be, to make an official record of their reason for not voting.
- The presidency is decided strictly by voting percentages. No complicated electoral college system in Argentina (which is a beast to explain/teach, by the way, as I have attempted to do so in a few of my classes here that touch on culture). The president wins strictly on the premise of garnering the largest percentage of the popular vote, with at least a ten percent margin of difference between her/him and the runner-up candidate. Yesterday, Cristina Fernández de Kirchner was re-elected in a landslide, winning nearly 54% of the vote with candidates Hermes Binner, Ricardo Alfonsín, and A. Rodríguez Saá gaining other "significant" percentages of the vote with 17%, 11% and 8%, respectively. Apparently Cristina's victory was also a new historical high for the percentage vote won by a presidential candidate since the return of democratic processes after the military governments of the late 70's and early 80's (Alfonsín was the previous name alongside this record, winning 51.7% of the vote in 1983).
- Local politicians have a lot of sway in deciding when their elections will be, apart from the national elections. I can describe why these local and provincial level elections happen separate from their national counterparts about as clearly as I can describe the U.S.'s electoral college system to my students; it's complicated-- bear with me. While many places here are moving toward/already using computers in an electronic voting system, the paper ballots utilized previously were marked by their perforations and the necessary tearing off of certain parts of the ballot to mark one's vote (think Florida's controversial "chad" situation in the 2000 elections and you're closer to understanding this system). In other words, it can be rather simple to vote for all the candidates of a single political party by tearing off all portions of the ballot along a single perforated line. If officials seeking reelection believe this party-line voting might work against them, it is not unheard of, nor uncommon, that they create a separate election day for a particular office (i.e. given that other offices in contest would include strong candidates of an opposing political party, the elected official fears the potential of losing these votes that s/he might otherwise win on an "independent" ballot).
- Voting is held in schools, always on Sundays, and there is a lottery to decide which teachers must work at elections. Additionally, in schools like mine (San Fernando Rey) where they have voting on Sunday, classes are cancelled on Monday to promote a full cleaning of the school facilities after being utilized by hordes of voters. I didn't really take note after past election days whether the institute seemed cleaner (or not) upon our return on Tuesday (tabled mental note to be resurfaced when I go to work tomorrow). Finally, I do feel bad for the teachers whose efforts are solicited for these full day civic duties; frankly, they don't have a choice on whether to accept the responsibility or not and it's my impression that they have to work the entire day (from 8:00 am to 6:00 pm).
Monday, October 24, 2011
To the Polls!
National elections were held here in Argentina yesterday. Again. For something like the fourth or fifth time since I've been here. If you're here in Argentina reading this, you're likely thinking So what? I don't get what the big deal is? and if you happen to be in the United States reading, I imagine you're thinking Four elections in one year?! What went wrong? But yes, in fact, having these four elections in a single year is not out of the ordinary in Argentina and I wanted to take a moment to comment on this part of Argentine society that is so distinct from the electoral system that we find in the US.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Questions
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| “The truth is that our finest moments are most likely to occur when we are feeling deeply uncomfortable, unhappy, or unfulfilled. For it is only in such moments, propelled by our discomfort, that we are likely to step out of our ruts and start searching for different ways or truer answers.” M. Scott Peck |
Do you like it here?: also an inquiry that tops the FAQ list of my life in Resistencia, finding its way into my conversations on almost a daily basis. I respond truthfully that, Yes, I really love my life here right now. Simultaneously, I brace myself for the look of surprise that will almost inevitably cross the face of whoever it is with whom I am talking. Chaqueños tend to be very proud of their culture, and they seem to ask this question about my life experiences here with an earnest search for a real/truthful response. And yet, many exhibit a reaction of relative surprise, even mild shock, when I share that I truly enjoy their homeland, their culture. Sure, there are things that, given the opportunity, I would change (or opt for bringing in from my life in the United States) including, but not limited to, central heating in the winter, less dog poop on the sidewalk and, while they're at it, more level sidewalks to avoid public displays of my clumsiness, a Chinese restaurant,a Mexican restaurant, anything spicy!, and a bit less of the glaring machísmo. Nonetheless, I've come to love Sunday asados, seeing Resistencia come back to life in the evening after her sleepy siesta, the general freedom I have to get from place to place even without a car, taking in the handicrafts, music, cinematic productions, dance, etc. of local artists from both contemporary and traditional practices, and a rhythm of life that "forces" me to enjoy today to the fullest because no one really knows what tomorrow will bring.
What are you doing after your Fulbright grant ends in November?: Over the past few months, this question has also unrelentingly plagued my in-person conversations with individuals here in Argentina and my Skype chats with friends and family in the United States. For a long time my response has been, That's a great question! followed by a shared laugh and run-down of numerous possible post-November scenarios. Any of my dear friends in the states who have recently graduated from high school or college probably know all too well what it feels like to be asked this question-- like an hourglass glued to the table in front of you with its sand streaming through to the bottom half; like final Jeopardy with the stage lights low and that unforgettable 30-second tune playing in the background; like an action movie where the bomb's clock is ticking down to 00:00:00 and you have to snap the right wire to deactivate the explosive and save the city. Feel free to pick your own appropriate analogy for this situation of urgency regarding impending life changes. I do in fact have a "plan" for when my grant ends but I'm going to share a short anecdote first to preface my response...
Several months ago, in discussing the aforementioned, Do you miss home? question, one of my students shared that she was really impressed that "I had been living here since day one of my arrival." I kind of laughed and replied logically, Thanks. Of course I've been living here since I arrived; I suppose it's a kind of personal success that I haven't bailed out. But she insisted on a more philosophical understanding of her comment, clarifying that she had seen other foreigners pass through Chaco and not ever really [attempt to] embrace the Argentine culture in which they were living. She shared, in a nutshell, that she had observed me diving headfirst into learning about life in Chaco, exploring my passions and discovering some new ones, sharing my culture, and finding a way to combine all of these elements to enrich my own life and that of others. During my first months in Argentina, my response that Yes, I like this culture was, more than anything, a statement to reassure myself that my efforts of acculturation in my job and my daily life would eventually pay off. Over time, I actually in love with this city, its culture, its people, and, through my English assistant work, my own language and culture in new ways.
Thus, I had found myself at the crossroads of the What comes after Fulbright? question and couldn't envision myself giving up and leaving, yet, the relationships of trust and camaraderie that I've worked so hard to build over the last seven months. And so, with one English-teaching job secured and another one or two favorable prospects, I will be living in Resistencia again in 2012. There are, of course, uncertainties left to be resolved, primarily the remaining schools in which I will ultimately be working and new living arrangements. However, if these details were already clearly laid out in finite detail, I would question whether I was actually living in the Argentina of loose organization that I have come to know and love. ;) Before I dive into another year, though, I look forward too to re-energizing at home, seeing family and friends, and spending Christmas and New Year's Eve/Day enveloped in some of my favorite cultural traditions. I have no doubt that questions similar to those I have highlighted above will continue to fill my conversations here in the next year; likewise, I can only imagine how my responses will continue to evolve. Without them...well, I would just be an apathetic expat in need of some critical self-reflection therapy.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Oktoberfest
Group dynamics are always "fun" to navigate. So what do you get when you mix 20 recent U.S. college graduates who are all highly-motivated, high-achieving and strongly opinionated and throw them into 11 different Argentine provinces (17 distinct cities) with the task of teaching/sharing U.S. culture and the English language with future teachers of English?... Well, the truth is you get quite a variety of unforgettable life stories and acculturation experiences but you also get an occasional need to reunite, to use the colloquial words that make our use of the English language alive and organic (rather than dry and textbook-dictated), to laugh about how our use of Spanish is starting to interfere with our English-speaking abilities, and to enjoy some artisan crafted micro-brews. Last weekend was our shining moment as assistants to do just that, and include a few Argentine, German, and U.S. friends in the momentous reunion.
If you remember a little over two months ago I went with my parents to Villa General Belgano during their visit to Argentina. Last weekend I returned to this little village in the sierras of Córdoba to enjoy its annual, much-anticipated Oktoberfest festivities amidst the company of other Fulbrighters and their friends. I arrived at midday on Friday and made the short hike to our cabins at Aldea Champaquí 57. I don't think we could have asked for a more perfect setting with our cabin: space enough for nearly the entire group (a select few had a cabin just a block away), within walking distance from the center of town and Oktoberfest events (but not on top of any craziness that might accompany the festivities), a grassy back yard, hammocks and chairs to lounge in, and a quincho to have an asado. Our group poured into VGB throughout the day and, as many of us hadn't seen one another since our mid-term seminar at the end of June, spent the afternoon catching up on life and sharing stories. I also took a stroll through town with a few others and marveled at the time and energy that had clearly been invested to dress up VGB for these two weeks of cultural celebrations. Friday night culminated with an asado, well-executed by Brad (ETA in San Luis) and accompanied by Gillian (stationed in San Martin, Mendoza).
Saturday started for me with a run and a hike- wonderful for my physical fitness, not so lovely for my allergies that reemerge with the arrival of spring. Our hike was to the top of neighboring hills, Cerro de la Virgen and Pico Aleman where we were treated after our rather steep climb to some fantastic views of Villa General Belgrano and the surrounding sierras and, for some fair-skinned individuals among the group, some rather piercing sunburn.
After our descent to the cabins and cleaning up, it was time to get down to business and check out all that Oktoberfest had to offer in town. I purchased the indispensable stein that would hold my adult beverages for the weekend and entered the Parque Cervecero, i.e. the beer garden. Throughout the weekend this space also housed the main stage where performances by troupes of dancers and music groups highlighted music and dance from a vast number of European nations. Saturday afternoon's events also featured a beer keg tapping at the foot of the stage which I initially decided I wanted to be a part of. However, after nearing the stage with fellow ETA Grant and realizing that I was amidst a large, rambunctious crowd of men, I quickly resolved to a return to the exponentially more peaceful location of my seat to observe the tapping ceremony. No worries though on how fast I was able to remove myself before the tapping started as, in fine Argentine form, the music to announce the keg tapping started nearly a full half-hour before the actual kegs made their presence on the stage. Having taken in our share of music, dancing, keg-tapping, and taste tests of a few beers, we headed back to the cabins for some fabulous empanadas made by Grant (who also blogged about the weekend here), pizzas and some charged rounds of Apples to Apples.
Sunday was a welcome close-repeat of Saturday's activities with a run and new hiking adventure to Pozo Verde and Cerro Mirador. It would be a shame if I didn't note here that the weekend's weather was absolutely gorgeous. With abundant sun, a light breeze and comfortably cool evenings,we couldn't have dreamed of a better weekend for an unofficial Fulbright reunion. Sunday afternoon was spent again at Oktoberfest and Sunday evening, a significant portion of our group went to Viejo Munich, the restaurant of one of the well-known artisan micro-breweries in town, to wish Jen's (Villa Maria, Cordoba assistant) roommate, Alicia, a safe return trip to Germany. What a better way to send a German off with well-wishes than at a restaurant where she might enjoy some of the food to which she would soon be eagerly returning?! I was happy to be ordering beef stroganoff again, a dish that I miss occasionally from my mom's kitchen. Passing back through town just before midnight, Oktoberfest had arrived at its final minutes for the day. Nonetheless, the fact that the park would be closing in a matter of minutes certainly didn't stop us from storming in and joining a variety of other festival-goers on the stage for some rather spontaneous dancing.
Monday, all the "Fulbrighters & friends" gradually headed out of Villa General Belgrano and back to our respective provinces. If you had told me in June 2010 at our initial orientation in Washington, D.C. that our Fulbright group would become as tightly-knit as it is today, I might have rolled my eyes at you and said something like "Yeah, sure. We're going to be spread out for 8 months, over hundreds of miles, all over Argentina and you expect us to mesh as a sort of family?" But I feel grateful (and rather sappy) in sharing that this initially unimaginable group dynamic has come to fruition and that I'll dearly miss our Argentina Fulbright family when our grants end in November and everyone continues on their distinct life paths. At the risk of sounding cliché (ok, it's going to sound cliché whether I want it to or not), our Oktoberfest gathering couldn't have been a better final reunion. Besides, who doesn't love a cold micro-brew or two and a side of sauerkraut?
If you remember a little over two months ago I went with my parents to Villa General Belgano during their visit to Argentina. Last weekend I returned to this little village in the sierras of Córdoba to enjoy its annual, much-anticipated Oktoberfest festivities amidst the company of other Fulbrighters and their friends. I arrived at midday on Friday and made the short hike to our cabins at Aldea Champaquí 57. I don't think we could have asked for a more perfect setting with our cabin: space enough for nearly the entire group (a select few had a cabin just a block away), within walking distance from the center of town and Oktoberfest events (but not on top of any craziness that might accompany the festivities), a grassy back yard, hammocks and chairs to lounge in, and a quincho to have an asado. Our group poured into VGB throughout the day and, as many of us hadn't seen one another since our mid-term seminar at the end of June, spent the afternoon catching up on life and sharing stories. I also took a stroll through town with a few others and marveled at the time and energy that had clearly been invested to dress up VGB for these two weeks of cultural celebrations. Friday night culminated with an asado, well-executed by Brad (ETA in San Luis) and accompanied by Gillian (stationed in San Martin, Mendoza).
Saturday started for me with a run and a hike- wonderful for my physical fitness, not so lovely for my allergies that reemerge with the arrival of spring. Our hike was to the top of neighboring hills, Cerro de la Virgen and Pico Aleman where we were treated after our rather steep climb to some fantastic views of Villa General Belgrano and the surrounding sierras and, for some fair-skinned individuals among the group, some rather piercing sunburn.
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| View from Cerro de la Virgen |
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| We made it to the top of Pico Aleman! |
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| The small statue in the bottom-left corner of the photo is the Virgen at the top of her hill. |
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| Our hiking crew (LtoR: Grant, Brad, Gillian, Anna, Carolyn, Alli) |
After our descent to the cabins and cleaning up, it was time to get down to business and check out all that Oktoberfest had to offer in town. I purchased the indispensable stein that would hold my adult beverages for the weekend and entered the Parque Cervecero, i.e. the beer garden. Throughout the weekend this space also housed the main stage where performances by troupes of dancers and music groups highlighted music and dance from a vast number of European nations. Saturday afternoon's events also featured a beer keg tapping at the foot of the stage which I initially decided I wanted to be a part of. However, after nearing the stage with fellow ETA Grant and realizing that I was amidst a large, rambunctious crowd of men, I quickly resolved to a return to the exponentially more peaceful location of my seat to observe the tapping ceremony. No worries though on how fast I was able to remove myself before the tapping started as, in fine Argentine form, the music to announce the keg tapping started nearly a full half-hour before the actual kegs made their presence on the stage. Having taken in our share of music, dancing, keg-tapping, and taste tests of a few beers, we headed back to the cabins for some fabulous empanadas made by Grant (who also blogged about the weekend here), pizzas and some charged rounds of Apples to Apples.
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| Main street of Villa General Belgrano and entrance to Oktoberfest |
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| Main stage for performances |
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| The crowd, and its craziness, for the espiche, i.e. keg tapping. |
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| Some happy Fulbrighters and friends on a very sunny, Sunday afternoon |
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| I didn't know Duff beer (from The Simpsons) actually existed. Apparently it does, here in Argentina. |
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| The jolly old man with his beer stein whose face we saw on the primary propaganda flyer for this year's Oktoberfest. |
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| If you look closely, you'll see the fake pretzels and beer mugs hanging from this elaborate wreath amidst some shops in town. The only thing that could have made my weekend better would have been a soft pretzel... |
Monday, all the "Fulbrighters & friends" gradually headed out of Villa General Belgrano and back to our respective provinces. If you had told me in June 2010 at our initial orientation in Washington, D.C. that our Fulbright group would become as tightly-knit as it is today, I might have rolled my eyes at you and said something like "Yeah, sure. We're going to be spread out for 8 months, over hundreds of miles, all over Argentina and you expect us to mesh as a sort of family?" But I feel grateful (and rather sappy) in sharing that this initially unimaginable group dynamic has come to fruition and that I'll dearly miss our Argentina Fulbright family when our grants end in November and everyone continues on their distinct life paths. At the risk of sounding cliché (ok, it's going to sound cliché whether I want it to or not), our Oktoberfest gathering couldn't have been a better final reunion. Besides, who doesn't love a cold micro-brew or two and a side of sauerkraut?
Friday, October 7, 2011
I. LOVE. SPRING.
*Caveat: I started this blog entry over a week ago and life has been a bit crazy. More on recent life to come, but my entry on Día del estudiante and Día de la Primavera for today...
Wednesday, September 21st, marked two rather exciting events here in Resistencia (and, generally in Argentina). Whether you take the position that these events are worthy of an official vacation day or not, my institution was closed on Wednesday in honor of: the arrival of spring and día del estudiante (students' day). I asked a variety of people why we officially had the day off (i.e. Was the holiday for the first day of spring or for students' day?), and I don't think I really got a definitive answer one way or another. However, I did take note that a majority of businesses were not closed on Wednesday, leading me to believe that the holiday [for those who had it] is more a celebration of students' day. At any rate, the weather was beautiful on Wednesday, announcing spring's arrival, and I celebrated with many students so I suppose you might call me an "equal opportunity celebrator" of these September 21st holidays.
Truthfully, my exposure to the holidays began on Tuesday while teaching at San Fernando. On arriving at the institute, I noticed some very loud music playing, audible just outside the institute, in its open-air, enclosed patio and inside many of its classrooms. So loud was the music that I thought it was playing on San Fernando's cement patio (which sits just behind the building) where students often gather to have mate or chat. You can imagine my surprise when I realized that the music was actually coming from the school behind our institute, a decent 100 yards [away at its closest point]. The students there were having some sort of outdoor celebration, playing music through a powerful sound system and engaging in a variety of other games. I gave a lesson to second year students that day connecting an individual's acculturation process with Aldous Huxley's Brave New World, and while I could easily tune out everything [linguistically] that was happening outside, you can imagine how difficult my students found it to pay attention during the lesson. Spanish music playing outside and English being spoken by the teacher in the classroom- I think you know which one of these won over in my students' natural attention spans.
Celebrations continued that evening in the central plaza of Resistencia. I went with a basketball teammate to watch the grand parade for Día del Estudiante. This city gathering consists of nearly every public high school's representation in the parade with an elaborate float and accompanying troupe of dancers made up from students at the school. I guess this competition is a pretty big deal and students invest a lot of time and effort into the floats and their performances. After witnessing this Día del Estudiante spectacle/tradition I can officially say that I've been to a parade that I think was more monotonous than Granville's 4th of July parade. All the students were lined up to pass in front of the principal stage in a timely manner, but there was an inexplicable, significant delay of nothingness between each group/float's advancement (somewhere between five and ten minutes).
Anyways, we watched a handful of floats and, truthfully, I was pretty unimpressed with most of the dances that had been arranged until I saw one final group before our departure. This school's students were dressed in all-white outfits and moved forward in a somber sort of way to the main presentation stage. Their dance was not only performed in unison but, more importantly, it featured choreography and music that were in remembrance of those persecuted and killed during Argentina's military government in the 70's and 80's. As I caught glimpses of this group performing, I thought that yes, there is still hope that this generation can rise up and invest themselves in something meaningful, something life-changing for themselves and generations of Argentines to come.
On Día del Estudiante itself, I joined a rather large group of students from my church who went to a park just outside the city. There, we started the day with a couple organized activities then dispersed to enjoy some sports, listening to music, eating lunch and simply enjoying the day. I don't think we could have asked for more perfect weather to usher in the official start of spring, and while I know we still have days that will be cooler than preferred in the next month, I am certainly looking forward to afternoons with blinding sun and evenings where I might sit outside on my back porch or at a restaurant with friends to enjoy dinner.
Día del Estudiante didn't end on Wednesday though; it continued on Thursday when we returned to San Fernando for classes. Mid-morning, we started hearing rumors from people that the student union had a surprise for the students and shortly thereafter, the following group appeared in the institute's central patio:
Two huge base drums, a snare drum and two other miscellaneous percussion instruments = enough noise to totally eliminate the possibility of having class for probably 15 minutes. I can't remember at the moment what the Brazilian name is for this street percussion ensemble...
I also found these displays at the institute rather interesting and very educational. They show many of the high school students from the province who were rather active in their student associations and/or politics in the time of the most recent military dictatorship. As a result of their activism, they were taken away by the government, never to be heard of again.
Just a bit of reflection on Día del Estudiante before I bring this entry to a close: while I haven't talked to many teachers, it seems that most were not wildly in favor of the holiday. Obviously instruction time is missed in the classroom on the holiday itself but at the high school level students also apparently miss classes here and there prior to the big day to prepare their floats and perfect their dance routines. So, the source of support for this holiday still perplexes me a bit (local, provincial and national government support?), but regardless, it is quite the collective celebration for young people here. As I move on to future entries here, I promise to be a more devoted blogger, especially in the next week as I have several days off. Explanation on that to come as there is much to be shared from recent life in Resistencia...
Wednesday, September 21st, marked two rather exciting events here in Resistencia (and, generally in Argentina). Whether you take the position that these events are worthy of an official vacation day or not, my institution was closed on Wednesday in honor of: the arrival of spring and día del estudiante (students' day). I asked a variety of people why we officially had the day off (i.e. Was the holiday for the first day of spring or for students' day?), and I don't think I really got a definitive answer one way or another. However, I did take note that a majority of businesses were not closed on Wednesday, leading me to believe that the holiday [for those who had it] is more a celebration of students' day. At any rate, the weather was beautiful on Wednesday, announcing spring's arrival, and I celebrated with many students so I suppose you might call me an "equal opportunity celebrator" of these September 21st holidays.
Truthfully, my exposure to the holidays began on Tuesday while teaching at San Fernando. On arriving at the institute, I noticed some very loud music playing, audible just outside the institute, in its open-air, enclosed patio and inside many of its classrooms. So loud was the music that I thought it was playing on San Fernando's cement patio (which sits just behind the building) where students often gather to have mate or chat. You can imagine my surprise when I realized that the music was actually coming from the school behind our institute, a decent 100 yards [away at its closest point]. The students there were having some sort of outdoor celebration, playing music through a powerful sound system and engaging in a variety of other games. I gave a lesson to second year students that day connecting an individual's acculturation process with Aldous Huxley's Brave New World, and while I could easily tune out everything [linguistically] that was happening outside, you can imagine how difficult my students found it to pay attention during the lesson. Spanish music playing outside and English being spoken by the teacher in the classroom- I think you know which one of these won over in my students' natural attention spans.
Celebrations continued that evening in the central plaza of Resistencia. I went with a basketball teammate to watch the grand parade for Día del Estudiante. This city gathering consists of nearly every public high school's representation in the parade with an elaborate float and accompanying troupe of dancers made up from students at the school. I guess this competition is a pretty big deal and students invest a lot of time and effort into the floats and their performances. After witnessing this Día del Estudiante spectacle/tradition I can officially say that I've been to a parade that I think was more monotonous than Granville's 4th of July parade. All the students were lined up to pass in front of the principal stage in a timely manner, but there was an inexplicable, significant delay of nothingness between each group/float's advancement (somewhere between five and ten minutes).
Anyways, we watched a handful of floats and, truthfully, I was pretty unimpressed with most of the dances that had been arranged until I saw one final group before our departure. This school's students were dressed in all-white outfits and moved forward in a somber sort of way to the main presentation stage. Their dance was not only performed in unison but, more importantly, it featured choreography and music that were in remembrance of those persecuted and killed during Argentina's military government in the 70's and 80's. As I caught glimpses of this group performing, I thought that yes, there is still hope that this generation can rise up and invest themselves in something meaningful, something life-changing for themselves and generations of Argentines to come.
On Día del Estudiante itself, I joined a rather large group of students from my church who went to a park just outside the city. There, we started the day with a couple organized activities then dispersed to enjoy some sports, listening to music, eating lunch and simply enjoying the day. I don't think we could have asked for more perfect weather to usher in the official start of spring, and while I know we still have days that will be cooler than preferred in the next month, I am certainly looking forward to afternoons with blinding sun and evenings where I might sit outside on my back porch or at a restaurant with friends to enjoy dinner.
Día del Estudiante didn't end on Wednesday though; it continued on Thursday when we returned to San Fernando for classes. Mid-morning, we started hearing rumors from people that the student union had a surprise for the students and shortly thereafter, the following group appeared in the institute's central patio:
Two huge base drums, a snare drum and two other miscellaneous percussion instruments = enough noise to totally eliminate the possibility of having class for probably 15 minutes. I can't remember at the moment what the Brazilian name is for this street percussion ensemble...
I also found these displays at the institute rather interesting and very educational. They show many of the high school students from the province who were rather active in their student associations and/or politics in the time of the most recent military dictatorship. As a result of their activism, they were taken away by the government, never to be heard of again.
Just a bit of reflection on Día del Estudiante before I bring this entry to a close: while I haven't talked to many teachers, it seems that most were not wildly in favor of the holiday. Obviously instruction time is missed in the classroom on the holiday itself but at the high school level students also apparently miss classes here and there prior to the big day to prepare their floats and perfect their dance routines. So, the source of support for this holiday still perplexes me a bit (local, provincial and national government support?), but regardless, it is quite the collective celebration for young people here. As I move on to future entries here, I promise to be a more devoted blogger, especially in the next week as I have several days off. Explanation on that to come as there is much to be shared from recent life in Resistencia...
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