What a _____________ (you fill in the blank)

Well I am back on the blog radar, maybe not in the way that a lot of you expect. Seven weeks and two days ago I was boarding a plane for Argentina, seven weeks and one day ago I arrived in and left Buenos Aires, and seven weeks ago I arrived back in the United States with a big 'not admitted' stamp in my passport. Yes, the play-by-the-rules Teresa that you all know was deported from Argentina.  If you have seen or talked to me in the last seven weeks this comes as no surprise, but if you haven't been privy to this information, or if I just haven't seen you, I sincerely hope you are suffering from no kind of hypertension as I will not be held liable for any heart attacks that result from this post. Today's post is reserved for an overview of how I got where I am now. In the coming days I'm self-committing to record a lot of the fantastic things I experienced and never recorded last year living, working and teaching in Argentina.

So, how does one get oneself deported from a country? Pull up a carpet square for story time... My first year in Argentina (2011) was with the Fulbright commission. Issuing visas were apparently a new thing for them at the time and they requested the visas for a period of just eight months. This would not have been a problem except for the fact that they needed us in Buenos Aires for a full week before our eight month grant periods actually started. Thus, when the end of the year arrived, I opted to pay a (measly) 300 peso fine for having overstayed my visa a week or two. No big deal. It was either pay the fine or pay 600 pesos plus other time-consuming paperwork to get my visa extended for the extra couple weeks. What would you have done? Every Argentine I had talked to said that it was no big deal, that they knew people who had overstayed their visas and had never encountered any problems, etc.

I returned to Argentina in January 2012 after being home for Christmas in 2011 and encountered a couple questions at passport control but was stamped 'tourist' and ushered in without any further questioning or fines. I cannot believe how fast the year flew. With multiple jobs and, let's be honest, living a more "normal" life that didn't include a Fulbright grant salary and schedule, I was swimming in work for the entire year. I loved it at times and wasn't sure to do with all the accompanying stress and confusion at others, but it really became home in that time. Thankfully, too, the end of the year and rest eventually arrived. Again, can't emphasize how many individuals, colleagues, friends said to me that I needn't worry about encountering roadblocks in returning, despite the fact that I had overstayed my visa in 2012.

German had acquired his passport and a tourist visa for the United States, which is no simple process, and I, again, paid a fee to leave the country with an expired visa, still 99% convinced that I wouldn't encounter any problems passing through Migrations and Passport Control. Fast forward through some fantastic moments at Christmas, New Years and spending time with folks that I love here in the U.S. and we arrive to German and I's return to Buenos Aires. To make a long story short (and avoid a "he said, I said" retelling of what happened): yes, my heart sank when I realized a red flag had been raised with my passport activity; yes, just like you see in a movie they put you in a little room to wait a long time to process paperwork and decide what to do with you; yes, I am convinced as ever of Argentina's general disorganization after having this behind-the-scenes look at Migrations. As an outsider looking in and reflecting back, you have full liberty to be of the opinion that 'she should have known better,' 'she should have been proactive about the situation,' etc., or you can sympathize, or you can do both. My overwhelming present struggle is to do neither of the two as I can neither live in the past, nor make immediate, hurried changes in the present.

Yesterday's the past, tomorrow's the future, but today is a gift. 

That's why it's called the present.   -Bil Keane

Which leads me to the present and my ongoing saga of navigating the visa process. What a ____________ (you fill in the blank). Just as I never would have imagined myself in Argentina just four short years ago, now I can't imagine myself not being there. Yet, it's this crazy dream that's actually happening. God is teaching me a lot about patience, thankfulness, and graciousness right now, and everyone, especially my parents, has been incredibly supportive. Some days though the doubts and the desperateness to be back in South America is just blisteringly overwhelming. The visa pursuit will continue to surge, or trod, forward and meanwhile, I will continue to serve, work and develop relationships where God opens doors. Oh, and more writing in store-- soon.

Shifting Gears

Being a farmer’s daughter, it might surprise some that I never learned to drive a car with manual transmission. Maybe even more surprising, who ever would have thought that I would learn to drive manual in Argentina? Nonetheless, yesterday marked my first lesson specific to this method of driving. While automatic transmission is becoming slightly more common here in Argentina, the vast majority of cars in the country sport a manual gear shift, attributable to the fact that cars with automatic transmission are still significantly more expensive (than those with manual). Along with my boyfriend who already has his license and two other close friends four other friends in the car, our lesson took place at Resistencia’s airport. The airport is the city’s infamous site for such driving lessons with its l-o-n-g , meandering entrance that stretches from the highway to the tiny two-counter, one boarding gate facility. Nothing like turning on the car’s flashers to warn others of a new driver’s presence on the road. In fact, I would venture to say that the airport is utilized by far more individuals with its long stretches of green space for biking, soccer games, running, roller blading and casual relaxing with friends than  the number of individuals that come through in air transit. Anyhow, on to the lesson: Clutch pedal all the way down to the floor, first gear, ease the clutch up, oops, car stalls. Thankfully I can say that first stall was the one and only put on my record yesterday. I will certainly say that it helped that I listened to all the instructions a first time from the backseat while one of my friends tried her hand at the wheel. As she has zero driving experience, I had a good chance to mentally process all the directions given in Spanish before actually having to execute them at the wheel. I’ll conclude my driving recap for the day with the reflection that it was an odd sensation to be back at the wheel but half clueless for the first time since I was 15 ½ years old.

Our other afternoon adventure involved making a stop at Walmart which happens to sit just across the street from the airport. Yes, much to my dismay, there is a Walmart Supercenter here in Resistencia, Chaco. The store opened several months ago but I had not previously gone in; it sports an eye center, a pharmacy, a café, and an auto center among other expected departments of any Walmart (appliances and technological gadgets, clothes, food, etc.). Unlike the Walmarts that one finds in the U.S., however, I didn’t notice that prices were markedly lower than other places in the city where you can find consumer goods. I don’t have an answer to that specific inquiry either. Basically, my increasingly sweeping generalization that inflation is a significant issue here was reconfirmed, at least for the day.  While I didn’t peruse every department thoroughly, a few things did catch my attention stocked on the shelves:  a black (imitation?) leather sofa bed that cost probably double what it would in the states, Oreos with a half banana, half dulce de leche crème center (kudos to Nabisco, I suppose, for tapping into a target audience’s tastes in new ways), Nerds candy (which one of my friends told me he had never seen before) and an approximately 8 oz. bottle of A1 steak sauce that cost approximately ten dollars. Yes, these comments are largely about food as we spent some significant time in the grocery section of the store. I shared with my friends yesterday that, if at all possible, I never want to make a purchase from this Walmart. Of course, in the U.S. I have shopped there numerous times, and yesterday I consumed a couple of cookies from the bag that my friend had purchased. I realize fully that my actions raise just cause for condemnation of defying my previous anti-Walmart consumption statement. Throw stones (or words) if you’d like; I’m open for discussion. There is just something about this part of corporate America that makes me cringe, that makes me generally want to avoid this symbol of my native culture….at the least, while I’m several thousand miles away. When I can better, more succinctly express this sentiment of repulsion emanating from the sight of Walmart in Resistencia, I’ll let you know. Until then, don’t expect any updates on how I responded to the permeating slogan of “Save Money. Live Better.”

Round two!

And we’re back for round two. I’ll start off the year by sharing my (hopeful) commitment of updating weekly this blog/critical analysis of my daily life/space where I may occasionally rant. That established, let’s jump in to where I am now and how I got here. It was already more than a week ago that I boarded the first of my four plane rides en route to Argentina (Fort Wayne to Chicago to Toronto to Santiago, Chile to Buenos Aires). With a checked bag of exactly 50 pounds and my hiking backpack stuffed to capacity, I was elated, and exhausted, when I finally arrived in Buenos Aires proper after over 24 hours of combined fly and layover time. I actually don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see Retiro, Buenos Aires’ central bus terminal. Thursday night was spent on an overnight bus ride and Friday morning I finally arrived in Resistencia. I have no doubt that I was quite the sight when I arrived; nonetheless, a small crew of friends welcomed me with huge smiles and bigger hugs at the bus terminal.

Next stop on my seemingly never-ending travels: my new house. I have the blessing this year of living with a friend, Caro, who I got to know last year both at San Fernando and my church.  Friday was a whirlwind of house arranging and zombie-like communications for me. Truly, I think it took the next three or four days for me to recuperate from my marathon travels and the slight cold that I’d carried with me from Ohio. Add in some extreme climate changes and I feel like I’ve survived quite an environmental shift; It’s hot, very hot (like 90 degrees with high humidity hot), here in Resistencia which I have to say I’ve enjoyed for the most part so far.

I won’t drag on too much longer with this entry as a few other necessary tasks are calling my name at the moment but as a humorous close to my return to Argentina, I’d like to reflect on a few food addictions that the majority of Argentines adhere to and still make me laugh. One, Coca-Cola is king here. Believe it or not, I’d put good money on a claim that there is more soda pop consumed here per capita than in the United States. Two, an obsession with salt and consequent lack of pepper. Go to nearly any restaurant and you’re going to find just one condiment shaker on the table, one filled with salt. Three, mayonnaise. Maybe it’s because my parents really didn’t keep mayonnaise stocked as an absolutely necessary condiment in our refrigerator when I was a child but the quantities in which it is consumed here with steak, hamburgers, vegetables in a salad, you name it, truly astound me.  And finally, hard boiled egg. My friends think I am really strange for not being nuts about eggs prepared this way in a salad, on top of a pizza, etc. and I find them a bit obsessed for the ways that they use them in food. I guess life is fair and just in some ways. More life updates soon from sunny, scorching Chaco and God-willing some job updates too.

Travels and Transitions

I'm getting on a bus tonight. I arrive in Buenos Aires tomorrow morning. I get on a plane tomorrow night. I land in Dallas on Saturday morning. I board another plane four short hours later and will land in Fort Wayne, Indiana where my family will (hopefully) be to greet me. ;) I've written all of the above and know that, God-willing, all my travels will go as planned, and yet, everything I've written feels about as real to me right now as going to Argentina felt about nine months ago when I wrote my first blog entry from the states. I knew that I was commencing some grand, hopefully positive, surely unknown adventure on the the other half of the planet. Nonetheless, there is no way that I could have imagined all the amazing experiences that I have had since arriving here. I'm looking forward too to the end of January when I will be returning to Resistencia. Until that time comes though, I am anxious to spend time at home with friends and family, to eat lots of spicy food, to see snow and have to bundle up in truly cold weather (and have the pleasure of coming home to central heating), to sing Christmas carols and ring in 2012 and certainly to share much of what I have learned here with anyone who crosses my path and is interested.

As the age-old saying goes, "All good things must come to an end." However, with those good things that come to an end also often come celebrations in commemoration of those things. Likewise, while my Fulbright scholarship came to its conclusion almost four weeks ago, I have had the pleasure of celebrating, at multiple times, with multiple groups, the work I accomplished this year and the relationships that we have collectively built. These gatherings included a small surprise party at San Fernando on my last day teaching, a planned "going away" party with a larger group of professors and students from San Fernando and a surprise party thrown by a group of friends from church. While I would love to expound on the details of each of these, my bus leaves in approximately an hour....I may or may not write while I'm stateside. To be honest, I haven't really decided yet. I'm sure though that there will be stories to be told about my culture shock and funny anecdotes about moments where I accidentally say something to someone in Spanish. Thank you all for your continuous support, whether it be simply reading my blog, sending e-mails of support or chasing me down to have a skype date. Much love to all.

(Extended) Recap!

My sincerest apologies to anyone who has been diligently following my blog. If you aren't living with me here in Resistencia (i.e. seeing me on a fairly regular basis), you might have come to one of the following conclusions in the last month: a) I was abducted by aliens, b) I decided to enroll at clown school and joined the circus, c) I have spent substantial amounts of time with a particular young man of interest as a significant other, or d) I was arrested for trying to initiate Denison's naked week ultimate frisbee game in the central plaza. One of these statements is true; I'll leave it up to you to discern what's true and what's not. One other thing is for certain though: I am a failed blogger in the last month. Today I'm going to briefly recap late-October/November/early-December and tomorrow or Wednesday follow up with a final entry to bring "Argentina Round One" to a close.

(Not) Getting a Visa. This is a rather long story and one that I'd rather not dwell on anyhow so I'll keep it as short and politically correct as possible. The need arose for me to renew my visa to stay for the couple of extra weeks that I'll be here before coming home for Christmas. This involved me going to Corrientes as Resistencia doesn't have its own Migrations/Foreign Affairs office. Honestly, not such a huge deal as I was able to stay the night before with Corrientes ETA, Hannah, and walk to this office in the morning, rather than being in transit super early from Resistencia. Late October I went to this office (for the first time) with what I thought was the necessary paperwork in hand, but instead was handed a form and given directions to return with a couple of additional items in order to finalize the visa renewal. At this point I was relatively excited because the woman at the office told me that my visa would be renewed not just until my desired departure date, but for a whole calendar year (i.e. til November 13, 2012).
Of course, this was too good to be true...I returned to the office mid-November with the collection of documents in hand, first, to wait four hours because their computer system wasn't running. Then, all my prior hopes were dashed when a second woman at the Migrations office delivered the following blows: first, that my visa be renewed only until the date listed on my Fulbright letter, and second that I would have to go to a bank in Chaco to deposit the necessary 300 peso fine and then return again to Corrientes to finish up the paperwork. My other option at this point: simply go to the airport with 300 pesos in hand in December and pay the fine there for overstaying my visa. Decision: made. To the airport I'll go. 

Photo of Viviana Cimbaro Canella (with Máximo in front) and part of the extended family in this photo from baby Máximo's baptism in Puerto Tirol, November 27th.

My Students (and being a student). My classes at San Fernando officially ended two and a half weeks ago sadly marking the end of my year as a Fulbright ETA. While the year had its share of moments that I would consider highs, lows and everywhere in between, I have undoubtedly gained a plethora of teaching skills and have started to grasp, I think, many of the irregularities and general unpredictability of Argentina's education system. I have taught about the culture of the United States, occasionally tried to imitate a British accent, done plenty of review on the nuts and bolts of my own language, learned a great deal about phrasal verbs, and had students at all levels, from high school and the introductory language level at San Fernando to well-seasoned fourth year students who will soon graduate. As I look forward to next year in Resistencia, I hope these experiences will work to my benefit in a couple of ways. First, I expect to continue teaching English in a couple of private institutions as well as in the context of private tutoring. Second, I have plans to enroll as a student at San Fernando Rey in the coming year. Yes folks, you read that correct: Teresa is going to be a university student again and is pretty excited about it (plus, it's easier to get a visa when I'm a student. see story one from this blog entry).

Basketball. Those who have known me for a long period of time know that in high school I had a patellar subluxation for the first time. Basically, my knee cap slid to the outside of my knee and popped back into place, fortunately without tearing any of the tendons or ligaments within my knee. Unfortunately, this happened again while I was at basketball practice at the end of October. I am exponentially thankful that, again, nothing was torn but I did take a hiatus from physical activity for a couple weeks. Since then, especially with the arrival of spring's beautiful weather, I've been running outside and focusing on strength-related rehabilitation exercises. While the coming year won't include me playing basketball with the club team, for a variety of reasons, I am grateful for all that I have been able to share culturally with my teammates. It has been a noteworthy experience relearning a sport, Argentine style, that has been part of my life for many, many years.

December 3rd: Apple pie baking with my students Jesus and Susana and Susana's son Juan Cruz!

Thanksgiving. I'm not going to lie, it was rough to be away from home for a major holiday for the first time- from turkey and stuffing, family gatherings, American football, the Macy's parade, laughing at the ridiculous Black Friday shoppers, catching relatives trying to cheat in board games, and pumpkin pie, of course. On the flip side, it was a sunny 85 degrees here and I spent the afternoon poolside at my supervisor's house with Hannah (Corrientes ETA). I was thankful that I had a family who was more than happy to Skype with me on that day and am thankful to be going home this Friday to spend some quality time, including Christmas and the New Year, with those I love. I also had my fair share of opportunities here to share with others about my Thanksgiving traditions and how I give special thanks to God on this annual celebration for each of my many blessings.

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.

• 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).

There you have it: the very basics of elections and voting in Argentina. I know there are plenty of details that have not yet crossed my radar, that I wouldn't want to bore you with, and/or that I have already forgotten, but I hope the above details provide a brief snapshot of the election process here. In my opinion, having four separate elections with obligatory voting responsibilities in less than 8 months is borderline obnoxious. On the flip side, I certainly know more about this electoral system than if there had only been one election in my tenure of living in Chaco. :)

Questions

“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 miss home?: I can't even begin to count the number of times that I've been asked this question since I arrived here in March. But just as many times as I have been asked, my response has been the same: Sure, there are people, and things, and foods that I miss from home. But, there are truly just as many individuals, and foods, and traditions here that I love having the chance to learn about and embrace as a newcomer to Argentina and Chaco's cultures. I usually then become an audience-of-one for a mini-lecture on how awesome asados are or how unique the Argentines are in the way they use the Spanish language to communicate with one another.

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.