You can ask for the notes in a folder that said INES COPA and here is everyting you need. What is going to happen is that the person will tell you that he doesn't have them- but insist!
Friday, March 26, 2010
How Argentina Works
"Tienen que pedir los apuntes que están en una carpeta que dice "INES COPA", allí están todos. Lo que puede pasar es que la persona diga que no los tiene, pero uds ¡insistan!
You can ask for the notes in a folder that said INES COPA and here is everyting you need. What is going to happen is that the person will tell you that he doesn't have them- but insist!
You can ask for the notes in a folder that said INES COPA and here is everyting you need. What is going to happen is that the person will tell you that he doesn't have them- but insist!
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
"Socialismo o Barberie"
Ifsa rule #1,071 Never go to a protest. Ifsa rule # 1,072 Never go to a protest alone. You can imagine my anxiety as I approached the Plaza de Mayo on an empty Subte A today. The walk up to the outside was a bright ascent through a gate. It was the stereotypical image of death and fitting for the rate of my heartbeat at that point. 
Walking around the Plaza de Mayo there was a substantial crowd with flags and banners but not the Kilombo (crowd) I’d imagined. Everyone was smiling, and chanting, and laughing. There were hot dog and chorizo vendors as well as Simpson doll vendors. There were Argentine flags, “nunca mas” flags, and 6-7-8 scrawled on everything from flags to shirts to children. Most noticeable however, were the hearts. They were strung together and hanging from every tree, bandstand and chorizo cart. Each heart was white and represented a life that had been stolen. It was very profound and se me llene los ojos de lagrimas.
At some point the chatter was drowned out because firecrackers were being shot off down the street. I looked up to see a giant mass approaching the plaza. The marcha had begun. I walked up into the heart of the masses and found myself surrounded by banners and groups in matching shirts. The shirt of the group HIJOS was the most common. It said “Me pongo la camiseta” and debajo “juicio and castigo”. Justice and Punishment. I found some of my friends and we just watched in awe as drummers passed us, the young socialists, the Che foundation, the young peronists, the young communists, CHA for lgbt rights, and so many others. “Ole Ola, … donde estas, no te ve, vas a buscar!”
We ended up near the stage to hear words of wisdom from the Madres of the plaza de mayo. The lead madre had a way of speaking that I can only compare to the dali lama. It was just so gracious and hopeful- stern when necessary but really just appreciative of the day and the hope it brought. From the bandstand others would yell “Companeros de los desparecidos donde estas.” “Presente!” “Para ahora…” “Y SIEMPRE”
My favorite chant was for the madres though. “Madres de la plaza de mayo las invito. Su pueblo las abrazo!” (Madres of the Plaza we invite you, your city offers you a hug … more or less) It was all around a very profound experience. I’m surprised that I found words to describe it at all. Granted – I did borrow a lot of the chants.
Walking around the Plaza de Mayo there was a substantial crowd with flags and banners but not the Kilombo (crowd) I’d imagined. Everyone was smiling, and chanting, and laughing. There were hot dog and chorizo vendors as well as Simpson doll vendors. There were Argentine flags, “nunca mas” flags, and 6-7-8 scrawled on everything from flags to shirts to children. Most noticeable however, were the hearts. They were strung together and hanging from every tree, bandstand and chorizo cart. Each heart was white and represented a life that had been stolen. It was very profound and se me llene los ojos de lagrimas.
At some point the chatter was drowned out because firecrackers were being shot off down the street. I looked up to see a giant mass approaching the plaza. The marcha had begun. I walked up into the heart of the masses and found myself surrounded by banners and groups in matching shirts. The shirt of the group HIJOS was the most common. It said “Me pongo la camiseta” and debajo “juicio and castigo”. Justice and Punishment. I found some of my friends and we just watched in awe as drummers passed us, the young socialists, the Che foundation, the young peronists, the young communists, CHA for lgbt rights, and so many others. “Ole Ola, … donde estas, no te ve, vas a buscar!”
We ended up near the stage to hear words of wisdom from the Madres of the plaza de mayo. The lead madre had a way of speaking that I can only compare to the dali lama. It was just so gracious and hopeful- stern when necessary but really just appreciative of the day and the hope it brought. From the bandstand others would yell “Companeros de los desparecidos donde estas.” “Presente!” “Para ahora…” “Y SIEMPRE”
My favorite chant was for the madres though. “Madres de la plaza de mayo las invito. Su pueblo las abrazo!” (Madres of the Plaza we invite you, your city offers you a hug … more or less) It was all around a very profound experience. I’m surprised that I found words to describe it at all. Granted – I did borrow a lot of the chants.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Becca has been eating lots of calabasa (squash) lately...
Play by Play:
Meant to be read in the voice of a locutor de futbol:
Oh look at her go! First one colectivo, then another, then another! Count them 92, 99, 24, y 29!!! Becca has now successfully ridden 4 Colectivos. GOL!!!!!
And what a professional tourist she is too! First plaza de mayo with “don’t cry for me argentina playing in her head the entire time!” A tourist like none other! Then onto the obelisco! A tango class, the feria de san telmo, Evita's grave in Recoleta, and la boca! Can nothing slow her down? Will she ever start acting like a local? Stay tuned to find out!
AND the extranjera is doing the local thing!! What an unexpected turnover! Becca went to the konex to see the Babel Orkestra just like any Argentine her age! She eats empenadas like its her job. She drinks mate in class. MATEEEEEE. Did you hear that. The local drink! She stays up all hours of the night, goes to the local feminist protests, and moves on argentine time. We need to keep an eye on this newcomer. She is starting to really make a name for herself in this city.
Plaza de mayo always has veterans from the war of the Malvinas. They’re pissed. I need to learn more about this, but as of now it just seems like a territory war. That is so last century.
The oblesico is an obelisco. It looked like a mini Washington monument. Yay pointy monuments. Keep a lookin up.
The feria de San Telmo was like most that Ive been too. Nothing special. I think Ill stick with my local feria from now on. I did buy colored pencils for really cheap though! I was probably far more excited about this than I really should be.
La Boca was so beautiful and so tragic at the same time. On the one hand its painted extremely bright colors that excite the eye, on the other hand the materials that these bright colors are painted on is tin! Tin houses. It’s horrifying and the juxtaposition of the century. The colors were the idea of Benito Quinquela Martín a local artist and orphan.
The protest was really interesting! It was for the Dia Internacional de La Mujer and the holiday started as a response to women’s rights movements everywhere. A lot of the women wore purple – the color of the movement and had signs for various causes. Some were protesting the abortion law (its prohibited), others were protesting prostitution laws and attitudes, others gay rights. One group had a sign of women’s faces and the dates that they had disappeared! They were all post 1992! I don’t know if the women think that these women are desparecidos of the government or of human trafficking but in either case it’s despicable and personally horrified and shocked me. This is why I want to be an abolitionist. This shouldn’t occur.
What’s in store next for Becca? Can she keep up with the energetic argentines? Don’t change the channel to find out!!! But here it’s time for a pause. After all:
Art, like morality, consists of drawing the line somewhere.
[info][add][mail]
G. K. Chesterton (1874 - 1936)
Meant to be read in the voice of a locutor de futbol:
Oh look at her go! First one colectivo, then another, then another! Count them 92, 99, 24, y 29!!! Becca has now successfully ridden 4 Colectivos. GOL!!!!!
And what a professional tourist she is too! First plaza de mayo with “don’t cry for me argentina playing in her head the entire time!” A tourist like none other! Then onto the obelisco! A tango class, the feria de san telmo, Evita's grave in Recoleta, and la boca! Can nothing slow her down? Will she ever start acting like a local? Stay tuned to find out! AND the extranjera is doing the local thing!! What an unexpected turnover! Becca went to the konex to see the Babel Orkestra just like any Argentine her age! She eats empenadas like its her job. She drinks mate in class. MATEEEEEE. Did you hear that. The local drink! She stays up all hours of the night, goes to the local feminist protests, and moves on argentine time. We need to keep an eye on this newcomer. She is starting to really make a name for herself in this city.
Plaza de mayo always has veterans from the war of the Malvinas. They’re pissed. I need to learn more about this, but as of now it just seems like a territory war. That is so last century.
The oblesico is an obelisco. It looked like a mini Washington monument. Yay pointy monuments. Keep a lookin up.
The feria de San Telmo was like most that Ive been too. Nothing special. I think Ill stick with my local feria from now on. I did buy colored pencils for really cheap though! I was probably far more excited about this than I really should be.
La Boca was so beautiful and so tragic at the same time. On the one hand its painted extremely bright colors that excite the eye, on the other hand the materials that these bright colors are painted on is tin! Tin houses. It’s horrifying and the juxtaposition of the century. The colors were the idea of Benito Quinquela Martín a local artist and orphan. The protest was really interesting! It was for the Dia Internacional de La Mujer and the holiday started as a response to women’s rights movements everywhere. A lot of the women wore purple – the color of the movement and had signs for various causes. Some were protesting the abortion law (its prohibited), others were protesting prostitution laws and attitudes, others gay rights. One group had a sign of women’s faces and the dates that they had disappeared! They were all post 1992! I don’t know if the women think that these women are desparecidos of the government or of human trafficking but in either case it’s despicable and personally horrified and shocked me. This is why I want to be an abolitionist. This shouldn’t occur.
What’s in store next for Becca? Can she keep up with the energetic argentines? Don’t change the channel to find out!!! But here it’s time for a pause. After all:
Art, like morality, consists of drawing the line somewhere.
[info][add][mail]
G. K. Chesterton (1874 - 1936)
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Cuentos de la Gente- todo de Hoy (all from today)
From my radio language class:
We all had to read our essays about "our relationship with the radio" on the radio today. (I haven't gone yet thank god) The peruvian student went up for his turn and read his essay. He had been living on a boat near an island off the coast of peru for 5 years, and his relationship with the radio was a beloved one because it was his only link to the outside world. However, the song that it always played was Karma Chameleon! Of course all of the rest of the Argentines had to start singing it when they heard this. Imagine: five years of karma chameleon?!? I couldn't do it.
From my cafe:
My cafe is owned by a father/son duo and the father loves telling stories. He's hard for me to understand though because he's from Galicia, Spain. I'm not even used to the Argentine accent yet- forget Spain. One of his stories today was describing the fervor two Japanese poker players on the tv. Both of the women put tons of money onto the table at the same time in a final push and this amused him. His amusement made me smile.
From my trip to the museum:
I went to the Museum with my new Argentine/Californian friend Marcelo. Marcelo lived in the US for many years and told me today that he had met Tupac in a hotel in 1994. My reaction of course was a deserved raised eyebrow but he said that they were in the same hotel and met. He also doesn't think that Tupac is dead... but that's something else altogether haha
We all had to read our essays about "our relationship with the radio" on the radio today. (I haven't gone yet thank god) The peruvian student went up for his turn and read his essay. He had been living on a boat near an island off the coast of peru for 5 years, and his relationship with the radio was a beloved one because it was his only link to the outside world. However, the song that it always played was Karma Chameleon! Of course all of the rest of the Argentines had to start singing it when they heard this. Imagine: five years of karma chameleon?!? I couldn't do it.
From my cafe:
My cafe is owned by a father/son duo and the father loves telling stories. He's hard for me to understand though because he's from Galicia, Spain. I'm not even used to the Argentine accent yet- forget Spain. One of his stories today was describing the fervor two Japanese poker players on the tv. Both of the women put tons of money onto the table at the same time in a final push and this amused him. His amusement made me smile.
From my trip to the museum:
I went to the Museum with my new Argentine/Californian friend Marcelo. Marcelo lived in the US for many years and told me today that he had met Tupac in a hotel in 1994. My reaction of course was a deserved raised eyebrow but he said that they were in the same hotel and met. He also doesn't think that Tupac is dead... but that's something else altogether haha
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Palacio de Papas Fritas
What does superman put on after his shower? SU PERFUM!
Ode to the Colectivo (bus)
No Speed Limit Sign
Crosswalks Don’t Stop Anything
I Fear for My Life
Ode to Mosquitos
You always bite me
I think you are glutonous
A plague on your house
Ode to Empanadas de la Continental
Never dissapoints
Sabores de la cielo
If only no bad breath
Ode to Globilzacion
Damn English Music
Nike say you can do it!
Se Habla espanol?
Ode to la Plaza Centenario
Popcorn and Puppets
Druggie stop tweaking so much
Quiero tomar sol
Ode to Juana’s Cooking
Mate de la cocina
Never liked eggplant antes
I cherish your plates
Ode to Grafitti
Dice “Malos Aires”
Poetry is art and art walls
“Not much in New York”
Ode to the Konex
Bird cage bar stools: weird
But Argentine Klezmer: fun
We will be fast friends
Ode to my blunders:
Sopa is not soap
One hamberqueso por favor
“Dolares! No Dolores”
Ode to the Colectivo (bus)
No Speed Limit Sign
Crosswalks Don’t Stop Anything
I Fear for My Life
Ode to Mosquitos
You always bite me
I think you are glutonous
A plague on your house
Ode to Empanadas de la Continental
Never dissapoints
Sabores de la cielo
If only no bad breath
Ode to Globilzacion
Damn English Music
Nike say you can do it!
Se Habla espanol?
Ode to la Plaza Centenario
Popcorn and Puppets
Druggie stop tweaking so much
Quiero tomar sol
Ode to Juana’s Cooking
Mate de la cocina
Never liked eggplant antes
I cherish your plates
Ode to Grafitti
Dice “Malos Aires”
Poetry is art and art walls
“Not much in New York”
Ode to the Konex
Bird cage bar stools: weird
But Argentine Klezmer: fun
We will be fast friends
Ode to my blunders:
Sopa is not soap
One hamberqueso por favor
“Dolares! No Dolores”
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)