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.

View from Cerro de la Virgen

We made it to the top of Pico Aleman!

The small statue in the bottom-left corner of the photo is the Virgen at the top of her hill.

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.

Main street of Villa General Belgrano and entrance to Oktoberfest

Main stage for performances

The crowd, and its craziness, for the espiche, i.e. keg tapping.

Some happy Fulbrighters and friends on a very sunny, Sunday afternoon

I didn't know Duff beer (from The Simpsons) actually existed. Apparently it does, here in Argentina.

The jolly old man with his beer stein whose face we saw on the primary propaganda flyer for this year's Oktoberfest.

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...

 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?

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...

British English v. American English

My supervisor at San Fernando, and the director of our English teacher training program, enjoys joking with me that I’m learning a great deal of British English while, ironically, living in Argentina. It’s quite funny how true this actually is. I giggle a little bit to myself every time I hear, “Can I go to the toilet please?” from the junior high students I with whom volunteer. This British influence/tradition comes from the fact that the first English presence, regarding both language variety and personnel, in Argentina was of British origin. Even today, there are many professors who have been trained strictly from a British English perspective and who adhere to this culture in their teaching. In our world that is rapidly changing/evolving, however, the influence of North American English is especially notable. American English is increasingly present not only in Argentine classrooms but also amidst (and maybe too, as a result of) media consumption including music and movies from the U.S. After several months of exposure to English classroom materials, I can look at a textbook and say with relative certainty whether it had British or North American writers and editors based on grammar, vocabulary, etc. Both language varieties exist in students’ English studies here. However, I would beg to claim that American English has had a much wider impact (than British English) on the population at large due to this aforementioned presence in music, movies, and other mass media.

This semester I am assisting in two sections of a course that focuses on the rudimentary aspects of culture from English-speaking countries around the world (England, Ireland, Australia, New Zealand, Canada, Jamaica, the United States, etc.). My supervisor (who I assist in one section of this course) and I have already had great discussions about what we should consider an “official language” of a country, because, if you look closely at U.S. law you will see that there is no legal official language declared by the national government. On the other hand, if we take a more socio-linguistic perspective in defining “official language,” we might classify English as something more official, mainly because of its use: in everyday interactions for a majority of individuals in the country, in courts of law, in other legal agreements and documents, etc. To be expected from the language assistant, I look forward to the opportunities that I will have in these classes to share further about U.S. culture. At the same time, I am excited to be a “student” occasionally and learn more about the other English-speaking cultures explored throughout the semester.

In the last few months I have learned that: when the British say “jumper” they mean an American sweatshirt, when they say “pants” they mean American underwear, “toilet” is a totally common and appropriate synonym for bathroom or restroom, to be “redundant” in Britain means to be laid off in the U.S., that “public schools” are actually private in England, and that fish & chips, beer, and, above all, tea in the U.S. probably do not measure up to British standards. I have had to be careful with the advice that I give students about vocabulary and pronunciation because I know that some of their professors teach from a full-fledged British English perspective. Accordingly, I find myself more often than not ending corrections that I give to students with “…but it could be British so you should probably look it up.” Of course, this isn’t necessarily a bad thing; if the students take time to double check my advice and suggestions, I imagine they will more likely to internalize the concept or grammatical structure in question.

To bring this post to a conclusion, I’m going to touch on a similar language clash that I’ve faced while living here in Argentina. Spanish, too, has a great number of varieties meaning that while grammar and vocabulary are basically the same, there are markers of distinction between the Spanish spoken in Peru, Mexico, Argentina, other parts of Central and South America, and Spain (where the Spanish variety mandated by the Real Academica has a greater precedence). Much like what I believe about the diversity of English, this obviously doesn’t mean that one language variety is better than another; it simply shows that language is a living thing, constantly adapting to be comprehensive for the needs of the culture in which it is utilized. O bugger! How’s all that for thought over some tea and biscuits in your flat on a rainy afternoon? ;)

Montevideo Regional Enhancement Seminar Video

It's obviously been quite some time-two and a half months, actually-since I was in Montevideo, Uruguay for our Fulbright midterm seminar. However, I think it's still worth it to share the video that the Fulbright commission sent to us fairly recently. We had a cameraman following us around all week (I'm honestly surprised you don't find someone sleeping in this video as omnipresent as this gentleman was with his recording equipment), recording our sessions, field trips and lots of shared laughs. I hope you enjoy!

(If the video isn't large enough for you to see on this blog page, you can simply click on the video as it plays and you should be redirected to the YouTube page where it is originally posted)

(Modified) Argentina Tour, "Fulbright" style: Stop V, Corrientes, a Private Institution

Nearly my entire life, from my earliest school days in kindergarten to my college graduation a little over a year ago, I have lived amidst, learned within and benefited from the education system in the United States. I will be the first person to tell you that our education system, of course like any other, isn't flawless and has its fair share of shortfalls. (If you haven't seen the documentary Waiting for Superman, you should.) Internationally, each education system is unique and has strengths and benefits that it reaps for students, especially for those participants who decide to take full advantage of educational opportunities available. As I am a bit of a self-proclaimed nerd, you can imagine my excitement as I arrived in Argentina and pondered the possibilities of learning about Argentina's pubic education system notable for being free and obligatory in elementary and high school and free at the collegiate level.

Since I have arrived, I have obviously been teaching at the collegiate level at San Fernando Rey in Resistencia. I also spend each Friday at a local junior high school, Escuela Normal Sarmeinto, helping by occasionally leading class activities and providing additional explanations to students in their language exercises. In today's entry though (and in a sort of modified tour of Argentina's universities that I had been writing about via my visits to other Fulbrighters' institutions), I want to focus on the private sector of Argentina's education system. This entry is written in light of a recent visit I made (at the request of a San Fernando Rey professor who also teaches at this second institution) to the private Universidad de la Cuenca de la Plata (UCP) in Corrientes; sharing about university life and culture in the U.S. as well as my process of learning Spanish in the U.S. were the highlights of the evening's presentation. My audience consisted of a class of students in the Information Technology program who have to take a couple of courses that equip them with English skills necessary to read and understand academic papers and official and/or international manuals and commentaries in the field of Information Technology. *Side note: This curricular requirement of discipline-specific English courses is very common at the university level here as all the important academic writing (for almost all disciplines) is published internationally in English.

This was actually the second time that I had visited La Cuenca for such a presentation and both times I was shocked in a way at the marked differences between this private institution and the other public facilities I have had the chance to visit. Multiple functioning computer labs, what seemed to be a more equipped and updated library, better lighting throughout the facility (which leads to...), a more aesthetically pleasing impression, and a more comprehensive website of greater functionality (when compared to that of San Fernando Rey) are all characteristics that might lead to an initial assumption that education to be found at this private institution is more valuable than that of its public counterparts. And, if we're talking strictly in terms of money to be spent on the education, then yes, you will spend more money at the private institution as education at any public institution is free in Argentina (teacher training institutes, med school, law school, engineering, architecture, business, etc.). In assuming so, however (about educational value), you would be mistaken regarding the principles of educational value. When an individual arrives at a job interview with his/her documentation of a private university education, this person's professional credentials and actual knowledge derived from the education are questioned/doubted. This occurs because the societal assumption (and reality in many private institution programs) is that you have paid someone off to receive your diploma. In the public system, this scenario becomes highly unlikely as there is no exchange of money between students and the educational institution. The professor whose class I visited shared with me that her Information Technology students study in a subject where this direct process of payment in exchange for a diploma is not commonplace but that it is well-known for such payoffs to occur in other courses of study. (I'm still asking myself if I believe her 100 percent...)

As a result of this experience at UCP I ask myself what is the bigger pity here: that the students with the financial resources at the private institutions don't see the necessity or benefit of utilizing the literary and technological resources they have so readily at their fingertips?, or, that there are so many students and professors at the public institutions where I have visited who are yearning and able to have the same access to said resources but don't have the financial means to do so? Dilemma to be debated...anyone?

Finally, as you digest what I've laid on the table in this post, let me reflect for a moment on a question that was raised by one of the UCP students during my presentation. He asked whether public or private institutions in the United States are held in higher regard. After several attempts to explain that this largely depends on the state where the college/university is located, the history of the school, the academic program and the school's resources for that program, professors in the course of study and their research and experience, etc. I was still faced with a certain blank, puzzled stare from many of the students. It was only as I thought back on this question a few days later that I realized my response was probably very difficult for these students to fathom; with such a marked difference in the reputations of public and private institutions in Argentina, my response of "well, it depends on x, y, and z..." was likely much too grey for their black and white educational reality. And so I am left to ponder the complexities of yet another facet of this diverse, essential, powerful practice we call education.

(Adopted) Families/Familias whom I Love

I generally avoid making direct comparisons between my life in the United States and my life here in Argentina. However, today’s entry will be an intentional exception as I want to reflect briefly on a few aspects of family life and values that I have observed in both places. While family structure, individuals’ responsibilities and geographical proximity of family members (generally) differ between the U.S. and Argentina’s culture, I’ve found that family, as an important social structure, shares some characteristics in both cultures (that might seem like a ‘duh’ point but stick with me here…). This blog post highlights a couple of families who have both welcomed me into their homes and graciously approved of what I have to share below about them, relative to the culture in which they live (I obviously wouldn’t be publishing the entry if I hadn’t received their permission.)  I consider myself blessed to know each of their families and hope that this blog post arrives at something deeper than what might initially seem to be a shallow, side-by-side cultural comparison. …

A few weeks ago I was visiting the home of former Fulbrighter to the U.S. Viviana Cimbaro Canella and talking with her two-year-old daughter Teodelina (or for short, Teo) at the kitchen table. When Teo was just a year old, Vivi tried to talk to her in English, especially using phrases in response to Teo’s constantly repeated questions and demands (i.e. Open it for me, Mommy! [but obviously in Spanish]). However, as any mother can attest to (or, as I imagine about first-time mothers anyways), caring for your first child can be an especially tiring process of adaptation to a major household change. Likewise, Vivi found herself waning in these bilingual efforts as Teo seemed to show little inclination to adopting the English phrases in her own speech. Recently, however, Teo said something out of the blue in English, without any external prompts; Vivi realized then that Teo had actually internalized some of the English. Thus, she has revived her teaching efforts in a way, working on colors and numbers, many of which Teo could tell me in English and/or Spanish as we pulled out one of the family’s board games for her to play with. Let’s just say that Teo never ceases to steal the show when I make a visit to their house. 

Viviana with Teo, smiling at Teo's baby cousin, during one of my recent visits to their house

 It was in this moment of discussion about language at Viviana’s dinner table that I realized how much her family resembles that of the Koske family who I know from my time spent in Granville, Ohio. Kevin and Tami Koske also have two children, Gabriel (3 years old) and Gwen (almost 8 months) (ok, so Viviana’s family doesn’t quite have two children yet. But soon this will be a valid comparison as Vivi is expecting a baby boy, Maximo, in October). Both Tami and Viviana work as teachers in local schools. Both families value their extended families in visible ways and both face (and will continue to face) many of the challenges associated with maintaining a balanced perspective in light of their families’ physical, social, educational and spiritual needs (relative to their generation and their respective cultures). 

David on the swing with Teo at a gathering on Argentina's national holiday, 25 de mayo

The Koske family: Tami, Kevin, Gabriel and Gwen

 Probably most important to me, though, in similarities between the Koskes and Cimbaro Canellas is how they have both generously welcomed me with open arms my semi-adopted presence amidst their families. I always look forward to spending time in their homes. And despite the fact that their lives are full of other important things and people too, I have never felt unwelcome or like I was intruding upon their lives. Both families love to laugh and converse at gatherings that bring us together to share great food. Some of the best asados I’ve had since arriving here have been at Viviana’s house (major kudos to her husband, David); at the Koske’s, whether it has been a simply unbelievable corn chowder made by Tami, “homemade” sushi on New Year’s Eve, or last-minute-decision Chinese take-out, the countless meals I have shared in this home are full of warm memories. I value indefinitely some of the profound, heart-to-heart conversations that I’ve had with Tami over a hot cup of coffee and with Viviana over a sweet mate. It was in Tami’s kitchen that I was given Cooking 101 on how to make some of the best homemade tamales, straight from the kitchen of the woman who was raised in Southern California. Similarly, in Viviana’s kitchen I’ve learned how to make scones (well, Argentine style scones anyways that I have transformed into my own mini-alfajors, shaved coconut and all) and, most recently, chipacitos. 

The children of these two homes always make my week. I expected to be regularly beat up by Gabriel in Granville and I consider it a minor disappointment if Teodelina doesn’t show off some of her diva sassiness when I make a visit to Puerto Tirol. Teodelina insists on calling Winnie the Pooh’s little pink friend “Tiglet” and Gabe has the best impression, hands down, of the Beast from Disney’s Beauty and the Beast. I couldn’t have been happier for Kevin and Tami when Gwen was born this past January and I can’t wait to be here too, to celebrate with Viviana and David when Maximo is born in October.

I could write pages upon pages of the ways that I think family structures vary between the cultures of Argentina and the United States, and the ways in which they resemble one another. However, as family is a relational unit, a social structure, a network of individuals in which I (and many other individuals of both cultures) have experienced extensive social, intellectual and spiritual development, I tried to take on a more personal stance for these familial “comparisons.” For me, relationships trump all and while my friendships with the Koskes and Cimbaro Canellas started out in strikingly simple ways, they have both developed into relationships of a profound nature, despite any cultural differences that may exist. I have been welcomed into their homes and families and, in turn, hope that I can rise to the challenge to be a more generous individual, as I attempt to mirror just a fraction of the generosity that their families have bestowed to me.

Día del Amigo (yes, I recognize this is very, very belated commentary...)

In light of my travels at the end of July, I failed to provide a commentary on a holiday of great social significance in Argentina, especially celebrated among individuals more or less of the same age as me. Even though it is not formally/legally recognized as a national holiday, this day is dearly revered by many people as an opportune time to gather and have an asado, go out for dinner and drinks, or simply spend time together. Drum roll please ...Yes folks, I'm talking about the one, the only, Día del Amigo, or Friend's Day. In Argentina, this holiday annually falls on July 20th and corresponds historically with the first landing on the moon in 1969 by Neil Amstrong, Edwin Buzz Aldrin and Michael Collins. The day supposedly commemorates our commitments to the friends that we already hold dear to our hearts as well as encourages an attitude that there are many new friends to be made amidst the population of our planet. Representative of the great importance that this holiday has for Argentines, Wikipedia reports that there was a temporary breakdown of the cell phone network in Buenos Aires, Mendoza, Córdoba and Rosario in 2005 [on Día del Amigo] because so many people were trying to utilize their phones to reach beloved friends. Seats in most restaurants, bars and other establishments are already completely booked a week before the celebration; mind you, while it might be normal to make such reservations at a restaurant in the U.S. I've not once made a reservation for a restaurant since I've been here. Día del Amigo is a big deal here and thus, I simply had to experience the day in full; there was no other choice....

Accepting the invitations of my basketball teammates, we all made plans to meet in parque 2 de febrero for an asado on Día del Amigo. I even went with a few of them the evening before to the meat shop to make the meal's most significant purchases (let's be honest, any salads or bread that accompany an asado are just a minor side note to the meat that graces our plates). Then I got home and looked at the forecast for the next day...Before I talk about our Día del Amigo climate conditions, I shall review for you now the general weather patterns of Chaco, Argentina: Always humid. Maybe chilly, or even cold, in winter (especially when there is wind), however if the sun appears, it will probably be reasonably temperate at midday. Two (maybe even three) weeks of sunny days at a time followed by one or (maybe..) two days of rain and then the sun/rain cycle cycle starts again. Returning to the anticipated Día del Amigo weather forecast, while the typical weather patterns might depict odds for anything but, my computer desktop application made it clear that we were to expect RAIN. And without a doubt did it rain on that beloved Día del Amigo, as I woke to find it pouring on that Wednesday morning and only saw the rain continue until after the sun had set that evening. Thus, the asado was moved to my house as we have a covered quincho in the back yard that would serve us well in food preparation.

A couple of my teammates arrived early to begin preparing the fire and the meat. Throughout the morning other teammates trickled into the house as the rain continued to fall steadily. Mate was constantly being prepared and poured to keep us warm while we waited for lunch to be ready. As we were amidst all my things at the house, I had the opportunity to show many of my teammates pictures from the United States for the first time which spurred some great cultural conversation. Bread and salad arrived with teammates. In preparation for post-lunch (indoor activities), a few people went to fetch some rather large speakers for the dance party that would ensue. Eventually we all sat down at my monstrous dining room table to share the asado. As we conversed at the table, I asked questions about typical Día del Amigo activities of years past and my teammates almost wouldn't believe me when I told them that Día del Amigo doesn't exist as a well-known celebration in the United States. The ways their jaws dropped when I shared said lack of celebration only reinforced for me just how important this annual July gathering is. The party was far from over after lunch was cleared and the (majority of the) dishes washed; music blared for a few hours and a variety of dancing filled my living room. Eventually most of the crew crashed to take a mini-siesta or go home before going out again in the evening. 

Teammates hanging out on the back porch before lunch

Daniela attending to the asado cooking in quincho behind my house.

Although it might sound rather cliché, I sporadically have moments of meta-analysis regarding my life here when I feel especially Argentine (i.e. I feel less like a foreigner). I think everything that transpired in my team's gathering on Día del Amigo provided me with an intense dose of cultural integration and a 'wow' moment of thankfulness for the teammates I have who have also accepted me as a close friend. I'll conclude this entry by promising, both to my readers and to myself, that Día del Amigo is an annual celebration that I plan to carry with me when I return to the United States. How can I ignore the possibility of celebrating a day tied so closely to valuing/celebrating the dearest of relationships that an individual has with his/her friends? Or, rather, how could I ignore such a recognized chance to gather and celebrate, period, with friends! ;)