Por Qué Argentina?

This is a question I asked myself more than a few times after arriving in Buenos Aires over a week ago. Why on earth did I want to come here? I don't know more than five words of Spanish, it's over populated, the diet consists mainly of bread, beef and sugar — two of which I try to avoid (guess which ones), and it's not exactly the safest place in the world.

Yet, whenever I would hear the name, Argentina, or catch snippets of people recounting a visit, I would feel a pull — call it a yearning if you must — and then hear a voice inside of me saying, "You must go there and check it out. It's going to be amazing."

And so here we are in the very country itself, deep in the heart of its capital city, in the barrio of San Telmo.









The first few days, it was not amazing. It was freaky, uncertain, frustrating and a little scary. Blame that on the language barrier and the culture shock which was ENORMOUS after three months of New Zealand and Tasmania where life really isn't that much drastically different from Canada, except for a few more sheep, lousy internet and all those funny accents.

Now, I am coming around. I'm feeling more at home and beginning to ENJOY the differences in the culture and the language. Buenos Aires is still a stinky, exhaust spouting, frenetic city where I have no intention of ever living, BUT, like many other major metropolitan cities, it's a great place to visit because it is stinky, exhaust spouting and frenetic. You can't help but get caught up in the buzz on the street (along with the dog poo). There's the artwork, the sculptures, the graffiti, the machine gun Spanish, the great coffee, the cheap wine, the stylish porteños, the empanadas, the hot sugar covered almonds on the street. Add to that the old world architecture, the palaces, the hissing buses, the leftist history and a burning need to protest about every little issue. It's crazy, loud, romantic, dirty, inspiring — all those things rolled up into one big ball of nuttiness. Great place to visit. Pero, no vivir...







After being here for only a few days, Jenn said that Buenos Aires makes her feel like painting again — a huge statement as far as I'm concerned. To be able to sense the creative spirit under such a suffocating landslide of culture shock must mean the impulse is strong here. I know of what she speaks. It is a creatively inspiring city — you can't help but get caught up in it and want to splatter paint on a canvas or drink a cortada and type non-stop fifty pages of stream of consciousness (don't worry, the blog entry isn't THAT long!). Perhaps it is THIS creative connection that I sensed whenever I would hear the name Argentina. Julie-Anne, our new Buenos Aires amiga, says that Argentina has a Cancerian astrological energy and thus is a HIGHLY creative region in the world. Hmmm... something to all that, I think...




Our days have taken on somewhat of a routine. We drag ourselves out of bed after eight (the jet lag still lingers and makes mornings and late nights a struggle), down some breakfast and then head to our Spanish classes around the corner with possibly (hopefully) a stop at a local cafe for café con leche before we get underway. Classes are going well. Profesora Macerena continues to blast Spanish non-stop for the whole two hours, but we are getting much better at deciphering what she is saying to us and can even construct simple sentences to answer her. Our conversations are quite basic — anyone who speaks Spanish and overhears us must be convinced we're bus accident survivors learning how to speak all over again. However, it is fun and we can sense (I can sense) progress. Today, we spoke to the man at the Museo de Ciudad — us in our broken Spanish and he in his broken English. We were all practicing and it felt like our first real conversation with a local. He told us our Spanish was quite good and we made sure to convey to him his English was quite good as well. Everyone smiled. Then he flirted with Jenn and said to me with another smile, "You no punch me, okay?"

At the Hostel America del Sur, where we went to book our room for our stay in El Calafate (more on that in a minute) the receptionist asked us our name and then to spell it out for her, which is EXACTLY like a scenario we had in class with Profesora Macerena. Needless to say, we both jumped up and down and answered the question flawlessly en Espanol (well... almost flawlessly).

So, we're getting better. Truth be told, Jenn is quite good. She understands most things that come her way in Spanish and she can construct basic sentences in response. Me, I have the nouns and verbs down; however, the sentence structure and comprehension is not so good. I also know that each day I get a little better, learn a few more words and phrases and understand a bit more about why you would say "Tengo hambre" and not "Tiene hambre." After a couple of months living here, it would sink in and I know I'd be able to speak the language. It would be rough, but I could do it. I LOVE learning a new language. I've always, always wanted to speak another language (not that my high school French grades are indicative...) It's fun to work out those learning muscles again, to observe how I learn at this stage in my life and have a fresh perspective on the process of learning.

And I am enjoying the cultural differences. I remember feeling the very same way when we were in Fiji during the first leg of our adventure. Everything here is new and different. This is one part of travelling I enjoy — walking around and seeing how people live in another part of the world. In New Zealand, the culture wasn't so different, but the enjoyment was the landscape and talking with people, spending time with them, and building new friendships. Now, it is more of a solitary experience — you don't make the connections due to the language barrier, but the trade off is access to and observation of a new and fresh culture. It's a different kind of excitement.





So, back to the daily routine: After our classes, we will have lunch back at the apartment or out at a cafe, then wander the different barrios, taking in the museums or other attractions. With only a week left here, we still have a fair list of things we want to see.

Buenos Aires is not the whole Argentinian story. It's a HUGE country, the same size as India, and if I am going to understand and unpack some of those feelings that drew me here, then we will need to see other places. On Saturday, we will fly four hours down to El Calafate, deep in the Patagonian region. There, the experience will be different — much colder to begin with as we will be getting closer to the Antarctic. But also, it will be rural and quieter, a chance to see the countryside of Argentina. We plan to visit the Parque Nacional Los Glaciares and the Glaciar Perito Moreno which is renowned as one of the world's finest spectacles.

And from there, we travel back up to Bariloche, the Argentinian lake district, which should provide us with views of the Andes mountains, of the forests and lakes.

Why Argentina? An answer is forming, but there is still plenty more to come.