Step #1: Falling flat on my face

Hola a todos!  And welcome to my blog which I hope will amuse you, enlighten you or even entice you to visit the beautiful Argentina!  After many failed attempts at coming up with a URL and title for my blog (How can one come up with a title for a story that has scarcely begun?), I have settled for "Becoming Argentine," which acknowledges my deepest desire for the next 8 months.  The beautiful travel destinations will always be there to visit.  The Spanish language will never cease to challenge and confuse me.  But what I cannot repeat is this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to attempt, and continue to attempt, to be a little more Argentine.

March 12, 2011.  Logan Airport, Boston, MA.  I arrived at the airport, new hiking backpack and one, only one, packed suitcase in tow (with the help of the luggage scale I got for Christmas and deciding that my wardrobe for the next year will consist of some variation of a black shirt and a scarf every day).  I met up with Sam, my fellow New England Fulbright ETA, and had the perfect last supper: clam chowder and a Harpoon.  With that we were off to Buenos Aires!  I was immediately introduced to Argentine hospitality when the man next to me on the plane started answering all of the questions that he had heard Sam and I asking while in the boarding line (apparently I'm not very discreet about my travel anxieties).  With his advice I was able to change money and find a shuttle bus to our hotel, but unfortunately he could not help us to distinguish between Hotel Libertad and Liberty Hotel for the van driver, who drove us in a few circles before dropping us off just in time for orientation.

Day 1 we went on a bus tour of Buenos Aires and my half-asleep self struggled to take in the enormous and complex city from the bus window.  We visited many neighborhoods and walked around La Recoleta cemetery to see Evita's tomb, but I will have to get back to you on the rest after a future visit because I was exhausted.  Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday we had orientation with the Fulbright Commission and the Ministry of Education.  The most useful part of that was the advice from ex-pats living in Buenos Aires and post-Fulbrighters.  The following have been the most helpful:

1. Watch out for traffic: In Rafaela, I think I have come across six traffic lights thus far.  Every other intersection is treated as a yield sign.  One car goes, then another, without following any sort of law or order.  And it always works!  Ana, our ex-pat advisor, sees this as a result of the Argentine tendency to look out for one's neighbor.  Rather than looking to the law, the people look to the driver next to them to decide what to do next.  Beautiful theory aside, I am still a bit terrified that a car will crush me into the quaint little cobblestones of Rafaela every time I cross the street.

2. Making friends in a new country is like extreme friend dating: So far in Rafaela, I have been thrown into multiple dinner parties, usually accompanied by one person who I met briefly or who I may never have met but someone else decided I should meet.  These parties usually include that one friend who just cannot believe I would choose to leave my family to come live in little, tiny Rafaela, the inevitable "What do you think of Argentine men?" question and that moment when everyone forces me to embrace an Argentine custom, be it drinking Fernet (their liquor of choice) with Coke or listening to cumbia (a type of Latin American music played in some of the nightclubs here).  I go wherever I am invited and despite the moments when I am not sure what to say next or am falling asleep because speaking Spanish all night has left me physically exhausted, I love it!

3. A balance between patience and asking for everything three times: The key to survival in Argentina.  The pace of life here is another universe compared to my college and investment firm days.  Many things, from finding an apartment to having running water, will happen if you just wait a few hours, days or weeks.  Other things, such as the beautiful theoretical project proposals we made to the Fulbright Commission in our application essays, will take a bit more force and persistence (I will let you know how this part goes).  The bright side: When I left Buenos Aires for Rafaela, I went through security at 5:00 for a 5:12 flight and was still able to make the flight!  (Not my choice of course, I was following our Argentine mentors who were very unconcerned about our tardiness)  Apparently they are so patient here that even planes will wait a few minutes for everyone to get through security!

Outside of our hours of orientation, I was able to experience a little bit of Buenos Aires, starting with a night out at a milonga, an old-fashioned tango dance hall, with about ten other ETAs.  After I sat to the side for a bit, I decided to join the group in learning from our Fulbright dance aficionado, Boris.  I learned the basics with Boris beside the dance floor and once I thought I was ready we took it to the floor.  I was just following Boris with what he had taught me when he stopped and told me to hook my leg - according to his blog this is called a gancho - I was a bit cautious but he kept telling me to go for it, so I did.  And then I was falling.  And I took him down with me.  In the middle of a milonga in Buenos Aires.  Apparently I was supposed to unhook my leg at some point and not let all of my weight come crashing down on top of him.  But we got up, shook it off and continued on, and in the end the embarrassment was far less than my regret would have been had I not even tried!  Last weekend, Boris finally admitted that his hand hurt for four days after that fall.  Sorry!  And in case you think I was turned off by this experience, I already have found two dance studios in Rafaela that teach tango.