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Friday, July 17th

I got up this morning ready to go! I went to the copy shop and printed off some papers for class. The people there are going to know me pretty well. Then, I headed in the direction of where Paz lives. After about 10 minutes of walking, I realized there was no way I was going to cover the distance in order to make it to Paz’s in time. So I hailed a taxi and he got me the rest of the way.

I buzzed her apartment number, and she said she’d come down. When I got to her apartment, I was struck by how small, but cute! It is. It’s another testament to Argentina’s conservative space nature. We sat down at the table, and I began the interview. It lasted almost two hours, but it was absolutely fascinating. I quickly realized that in order to get at more of the methodology, I would need to talk to Paz’s boss, as she set the curriculum. And Paz is also a psychologist, so she serves as a counselor, they call it tutor, at the school. With that element as well, her perspective was very student-driven, which is how I think it should be. She also gave me another school I need to email.

Before I left, she showed me the other room in her house, where she and her husband conduct consultations as psychologists from time to time. She teaches English and he teaches Religion. Cool. She also lent me a book by Isabel Allende, who is a really popular Chilean writer. The amazingly sweet part is that it’s a book she purchased when she was 15. It makes me really nervous though – I don’t want to lose it! Then, she offered to drive me back home, which was another act of kindness. As I waited for her to finish getting ready, she invited me to look through her wedding album. That was really fun, and it prompted a talk about the differences between weddings in the States and here. I commented on how I would love to attend a wedding here, and she immediately stopped, thought, and then sadly said that she didn’t have any or she would invite me.

As we got into her car, she calmly said to pardon her driving as she just began 5 months ago. I tightened my seatbelt. On the way in, we talked about all the potholes in the road, places I had gone out to, the “Texas” pride v. Buenos Aires and apparently Cordoba pride, driving in Buenos Aires, etc. Then she dropped me off. She leaves in a few days for her winter vacation, but I’ll hopefully get to hang out with her again when she gets back! Once schools reopen, I’ll be observing/helping to teach in her class. She really can’t be more than 30 though.

I dropped my compu off at home, then was pressed for time before needing to get to Quilmes. I went to Burger King for lunch, got my burger, fries, and Pepsi without ice, scarfed it down, then headed to the subte and to Quilmes. As I entered the subte line, one of the companies whose training I attended on Monday called me. I hate talking in English on the subte, but they were offering me work. However, it was really confusing, and my schedule for next week is unique because I shuffled things around so I could travel. I could tell the guy was confused or maybe doubting me, but he said he would send me an email with details. He never did, but I’m ok. His class times would’ve really booked my day and while a full schedule is good, I am enjoying the down-low time. Reading takes up most of it. And sleeping 8 -9 hours a night. Yes.

Once again, when I switched lines, there was a really dirty beggar kid who couldn’t have been older than 7. He again completely brushed along my leg, sending shivers down my spine. I made it to the train with plenty of time, but I again had to doublecheck which stop. This time I asked a kind lady who made sure I was aware when we reached the Quilmes stop.

I made it to the office early, but I found out that they had a meeting at 3, so we started early and I only had a 40 minute class. We were talking about emotions, and it was a lot of fun. I did find out that in Spanish, the word hysterical can only be applied to women. If you call a man hysterical, you are calling him gay. And while I think that hysterical is mainly applied to women in English as well, I don’t think that to use it for a man indicates homosexuality. Anyways, the class was short, but I still get paid, so woohoo.

I made my way back to the station, this time determined to find the correct entrance. I easily found it and managed to enter the station legally this time. Upon entering, I greeted the nice guy who had helped me last time, but he didn’t remember me. Oh well, hopefully my smile brightened his day. On the train ride home, as one of the train beggars placed his product he was selling on my knee, I was thinking about personal boundaries and the lack thereof here. I made it back to my house, then went to the Roadhouse to use the Internet before the trip! I also got Jamie’s letter, which was such a wonderful joy!!!!! (p.s. if you wanted to send mail, you would need to send it NOW for it to get to me before I leave.)

I then headed home and packed for the trip. Although it was less time than the week trip, my backpack was fuller. This time, I knew to bring my own snacks, and I also packed a TON of clothes because Patagonia is REALLY cold!! Martin, Maria Laura’s ex, also offered to lend me his jacket. This was an hour before I was supposed to leave. So we ran out, took the subte, and I got to go to his house, which is where Lulu spends every other weekend. He still lives with his parents, which was interesting to learn. Once there, he loaned me a great jacket, gloves, a hat, and a neck warmer thing. It was so nice! I made my way home, where Maria Laura had made me two sandwiches – one with milanesa, the other with chicken. AWhoop!

I met Rebeca on the subte, and we made it to the station. Last time we taxid, so it was an improvement to make it there via the subte. Once we were at the subte, it was a big quilombo. They had shut all the entrances, and everyone had to be filtered through a tiny gate to make it to the loading docks. Thinking they had begun security, Rebeca got nervous b/c she was carrying a kitchen knife for our sandwiches. However, when we made it to the front, they were just making people walk through. Later, thinking about it, my only guess is that they were checking faces, looking for someone who was trying to escape. Oh, because also there were tons of cops and stuff that we noticed all along the roads as our bus headed out.

I think the bus system is really difficult because your ticket gives you a broad range of platforms where your bus might come in. We checked all 10 of our potential spots with no success, after which we waited for a bit. However, the bus was supposed to make it at 8:15, and it was 8:10. So I asked one guy, who sent me to another guy. He only said that our bus wasn’t in yet. So we waited longer, getting a little nervous because if we miss it. Well, we miss it. However, it finally pulled in, running about 15 minutes late, and we made our way to the door.

The guy checking our ticket asked us if we wanted to store our luggage. Um, no. We keep our stuff with us! As I got on the bus, he asked if I spoke Spanish, to which I replied yes. Rebe later told me that as I was getting on, he called me a rubia rosada – …basically a strawberry blonde. I suppose the dim lighting made my hair look like that, but I thought it was interesting. I snacked on some of my chicken sandwich, but tried to remain hungry enough to where I would eat the bus dinner.

They turned on the t.v. and began to play the “Classic Project 3”, which blended together one minute clips of songs. It was almost too short for my music ADD! It started with “incomplete” by Backstreet Boys, and proceeded to take me and Rebeca through our high school music years. It was fun, and we entertained ourselves with the recollections certain songs brought up. Dinner was yummy – pasta. After that, put on my Michael Hanna music and tried to sleep.