Mas Estudiantes!!

Wednesday, July 15th

Today was another great day.

I blearily got out of bed this morning, managed to eat a piece of toast, get dressed, and head out the door. Maria Laura had borrowed my keys last night because she couldn’t find hers, but thankfully she had left them in the door. I just hope that she finds hers because otherwise she and Lu are stuck in the house. I got into the subte, and I was thankfully heading OUT of town so it wasn’t too crowded. Although, at 8:10 in the morning, the subte hasn’t reached rush hour yet; that occurs more between 9:30-11.

I got off and headed down the street. This was my first time in this part of town, but it was fairly straightforward to get to my student’s house. I arrived, and was greeted by a guard who called Betty, my student’s name to confirm that indeed a tired looking American was scheduled to see her. I got on the elevator to go to the 12th floor, and it was weird because I got out and found myself in a mini-hallway, basically the size of another small elevator. The only doors were to the elevator or to the apartment. I suppose the elevator doesn’t just open into the apartment just in case a creeper manages to get past the security guard.

As I rang the doorbell, the door was opened by an older, stately woman. She greeted me and led me to the dining room table which seats four. I was immediately struck by the open nature of the apartment. It was surrounded by wall to floor windows, and I quickly realized that they owned/rented the whole floor, which also included a loft. As I got settled, still taking in my surroundings, she asked if I wanted some coffee. I replied yes, but no milk, and she said something I didn’t hear. I later figured out she was talking to the maid. If that wasn’t enough of an indicator, I was then informed the guy walking around outside on their patio was the gardener. They basically own a tiny terrace that wraps around their apartment on the 12th floor…..and they have a gardener to tend it.

I began talking to Betty, conducting the needs assessment to determine what would be good to focus her lessons on. I learned that she works in medical instruments sales, and she will be going to Miami, Florida in three weeks for a conference. She has a grasp on English, but she is very rusty. We’ll be meeting for an hour and a half two times a week at 8:30 a.m. (gross) until she goes. We eventually got to the topic of family and kids, and she showed me a picture of her daughter and granddaughter. She then also informed me that the AWESOME, artistic pictures I saw in her apartment were her daughters’, who is a fashion photographer. I briefly met her husband, whose English is supposed to be quite superb, and the lesson concluded with her showing me around the outside terrace. Next time I go, I will have to take pictures of this entire place. Not only is the inside super classy, but the outside view is gorgeous and it overlooks one of the parks. My other thought while I was with Betty was how difficult prepositions were for her, and for other students I’ve had while here. They seem to be the scorpion killers, as they seem harmless and insignificant, but they sting when you misuse them. I suppose it’s the phrasal verbs that are the hardest. I don’t know, but I need to think about it some more.

I left with the intention of going to the National Library. I had looked up had to get everywhere last night, and I didn’t think I would have any problem. The Library was near Betty’s house. As I set off, I also passed some awesome wall graffiti I will have to capture next visit. After walking a ways, I quickly realized I was not seeing an familiar street signs. So I pulled out my map, and I realized I was completely disoriented. I thought I had just gone a little off track, so I switched streets with a new destination in mind. However, that didn’t work either, and I soon found my at a park I recognized but that I should not have been anywhere near. And then all of a sudden I saw a big street and thought, OH! Maybe it hits this street and I didn’t know it. No. I was back on Santa Fe, which was seriously the OPPOSITE side of where I was supposed to be, and FURTHER AWAY than I had even started. I still have no idea how I did it. I had the option of doubling back and starting over, but I decided instead to take the subte back home and start from familiar territory.

Oops, I forgot that at 10:30 the subte would be horrible. But I managed to squeeze my way in, and pushed my way out at my stop. I then stopped by the copy shop and printed some stuff out for my class tonight. Then I headed to the library. I decided to stop at Café Martinez and tomar un café. I really love that place. I think the waitress even recognized me. As I sipped and munched on mis medialunas, I also went through my list of the random things que todavia me faltan de Buenos Aires. For example, I still want to go watch the mothers of the desaparecidos, the people who disappeared (aka were killed) at the hands of the government during the dictatorship. The mothers march every Thursday afternoon at 3:30 in front of the Casa Rosada because the government still hasn’t been held accountable for that. Another thing is the Islamic mosque in Buenos Aires. It is HUGE and can be filled by thousands, but it’s currently not anywhere near capacity. However, they only allow tours between 12-1 on MWF, which means I have to go on a Monday.

Basically, I spent the time filling in time slots because there are still some cool things I want to do! Oh, and the planetarium, which is free to look through the telescopes on Sunday nights. After that, since I was in the vicinity, I went to daily mass. I got in a few minutes late, but was still right on time. It was neat because I am almost able to say most of the responses (not the really long prayers) in Spanish de memoria. And I can almost keep up with the Padrenuestro. It was a wonderful interlude of peace and reflection for during my day. One of the best parts about my newfound free time has been really digging into my prayer and Bible reading life and taking the time to lay solid foundations which will hopefully stay with me once the hecticness of the semester comes rolling in. That’s the idea anyways.

After mass, I walked a block down to the National Library. Rebe and I had walked past it before, but not up to it. It’s so old and awesome looking! However, I did notice it was really deserted, but I thought it was just because it was so cold, because there was a bite in the air today. Ummmm, no. They’ve closed the dumb thing until July 26th because of the swine flu. Frustration overtook me for a few minutes, as I had planned to get some help with research today. Once I calmed down, I thought about the list I had just made and decided to take the afternoon to see the Recoleta cemetery. I have been around it many times, but I had yet to go in.

p.s. on another note, I was thinking about the swine flu shutting down life. And I realized what a blessing it was that I had added those two extra weeks to my trip – por las dudas. Since I have them, I will actually be able to go to the library, observe classrooms, etc. Otherwise I would’ve left just as things were reopening. So yay for 12 weeks en vez de 10!

Anyways, I leisurely walked to the cemetery, with country music blasting in my ears, just lovingly taking in the scenery of a Buenos Aires afternoon. This included a guy walking 8 dogs, a couple making out on a bench, joggers running past, oh and a really cute old man in roller blades. It was so peaceful!

When I made it to the cemetery, a friendly lady handed me a map. When she requested pesos, I nicely handed it back. Instead, I took a picture of the map on the wall with my camera and followed that around the cemetery. There was a free tour at 2, so I had almost an hour to poke around on my own. My main goal was to see Eva Peron’s grave. As I walked around on this gray, cold day, it was easy to freak myself out. You have to realize, this was like walking through a miniature town. People in this cemetery don’t get tombstones, they get mini-houses, most of which have glass doors of some sort that you can look through. After a few houses, I realized that most included some type of trap door that led to basically a crypt with the bodies. Some random ones had people working in them, and again, it wasn’t hard to imagine getting tossed into one of the crypts and being stuck. Ugh.

Some of the graves were gorgeous, and I’m sure they cost a ton of money. And so of course this brought up thoughts as to whether this was money well-spent. Why do we focus so much on “remembering” “honoring” those who have passed away, instead of focusing on how we can help those who are alive today? I thought of two reasons. One, is that pride urges people to construct such large moments as is believed to “befit” people of such stature. It’s how you’re viewed by your countrymen. My second thought was the fear of being forgotten. Construct a large grave for yourself, and you can live on beyond death. This then makes me think of the Litany of Humility which I’ve been praying. Point being, I couldn’t think of a reason that justified these elaborate death sites, although I did consider that national pride plays a part since a lot of historical figures are buried there and the people want to remember their heroes in style.

Anyways, I meandered around and I found Evita’s grave. I suppose I was expecting something grand, since it’s the one people always talk about. It was in the middle of a small aisle-way and it didn’t stick out except that it had more plaques from different organizations and it had flowers all over it that I suppose were left by people. So I took a few pictures and headed back to the front.

OH! The other thing I noticed was before I entered the cemetery. There were signs along the outside wall basically saying this was the resting place of people so please don’t graffiti the walls. There were also obviously places along the wall where someone had scrubbed hard to get off most of the graffiti. What I didn’t realize until I got inside was that people are actually buried INSIDE the wall, meaning that LITERALLY it’s the resting place of people, not just that the area in general was.

I stopped at a bench to change camera batteries, and this cat hopped up next to me. So I switched benches, and the cat follows me. I left the benches after that. When the tour started, I was about ready to just head out, but I decided to at least see what it was about. I’m so glad I did. I don’t know why I ever go through museums, etc. without tours. They just add so much meaning to it all!

She started off by showing us the various types of graves in the cemetery. I really don’t remember the names because it was in Spanish, but there were basically masoleums, obelisks, etc. Also, the underground part typically extends for a long ways, so most of the walkways have dead people underneath them. We saw one older grave with a skull and crossbones in front of it, and then we compared it to the ones influenced by the French style. We saw a grave that was modeled after the Pantheon, and we saw another one with two sculptures – one of a mourning widow, supposedly just after receiving the news, and on the opposite side, the same widow having found hope. I heard the story about the girl who was buried alive because she had….catalepsy?.....as well as the girl whose father buried her dog with her. You touch the dog’s nose for good luck. I learned about all the different places Evita’s grave was before here, including Italy at an unmarked spot during the dictatorship, then Spain with her husband, then back here, with all the snobby people she wouldn’t have wanted to be around, while her husband is elsewhere. I saw one, probably 3 stories tall, grave with a mosaic of Jesus at the top that was made of gold. I also saw Alfonsin’s gravesite, who was the ex-president who recently passed away. At least the tour guide was honest in telling us that the casket we could see was just for show and that he was really buried underground.

One of the most fascinating things I learned was that people own these plots perpetually. The families take care of their own houses, so the random people I saw working were employed by the various houses. However, this also means that if a line runs out, nothing can be done about their house. We saw some houses that were in really bad shape, and there’s nothing to be done about it. They’re working on changing the law to say that the government can deal with it because this cemetery is more of a tourist place than anything else now. Also, you can sell your plot, but it’s very expensive. In which case, all the dead people from your family would be moved and new dead people would be inserted. She left us back at the beginning, where a funeral was in progress at the tiny chapel at the front. I exited quickly, more appreciative of the cemetery, at least from a historical, museum-like perspective.

I needed to sit, so I went inside a bookstore and picked up a copy of Twilight in Spanish. Since I’ve already read it, I’m fine with reading just parts of it in Spanish. I also learn new ways to say things when I’m reading in Spanish! Then I headed to the Roadhouse, where Rebe and I went to buy our tickets to Puerto Madryn. We’re headed down south this weekend to freeze and see some whales!

Oh, I also bought peanut butter!!!! It was really exciting because I’ve been looking for it for a while. It’s going to provide lunch during our trip, in the classic family style. Then I headed home, where unfortunately Maria Laura had cleaned my room a bit because people were over to look at the house. She had thrown away my empty bottles, which I was collecting for the labels. Oh well.

Lulu had a friend over, and it turns out it had been his birthday that week. Maria Laura made an awesome cake with dulce de leche and chocolate, and I got to partake of some of it, as well as meet Maria Laura’s mother, who has some of the same mannerisms, so that was cool.

I then headed downtown for my lesson with Julian. I’m substitute teaching him for the rest of the month because his normal teacher is traveling. I had to change subte lines, but I did that without incident. I found the building easily and talked to the guards. However, the elevator was one of those creepy old slidy ones, and I pushed the wrong button. So he came over and helped me. the building was really old and oddly shaped, so I got a little lost finding Julian’s office. However, when I knocked, no one was there. I waited a minute, then I tried calling his phone. No one picked up. I almost gave up, frustrated because I had been given the address in Spanish and worried that I had misheard, when he called back and poked his head out of a different room. Turns out he is normally located there.

We hit it off really well, and the hour and a half passed really quickly without me even having to pull out the article I had brought to read. He is from Buenos Aires and is about the age of my dad. And I’m his oldest daughter’s age, who is in law school here, btw. He’s working on his English for his personal satisfaction, as well as he went to Disneyland with his family and is now in love with the U.S. He is a very structured man and prefers that things are more ordered there. He is also a pilot, and plans to buy his own plane before making any other big purchases. We spent time talking about politics, especially the recent elections, Disneyland, the U.S., flying, vacations in general, life goals….we were all over the place. But it was really fun, and like I said, the hour and a half went by quickly. By the end of the lesson, I knew who he reminded me of – Guy Featherston. To a tee. Even kind of looks like him.

I finally had to end the lesson, and he said that I could leave or wait five minutes and walk down with him. I waited because the building was confusing, and I learned that he owns all of these offices in this area of the building, and it’s his business. What I understand is that his business is the middleman between grain sellers and buyers all over the world. Cool.

As we walked down, he also offered to let me share his taxi home. He said he would pass near where my house was. That sounded much more agreeable than the taxi, so I agreed, and he got about 15 more minutes of English practice. I got dropped of at Callao, which was about 10 blocks from my house. I made it home and found Martin, Lulu’s dad there. Maria Laura wasn’t in a great mood, and Lulu was really hyper. She had ordered empanadas, so the four of us ate together. Martin was asking me questions, but M.L. would jump in with quick answers, so it was all-in-all a stunted affair. I also think that there’s no way Lulu could not tell that the air was tense, which I think contributed to her super goofy nature, which in some way attempted to deter the atmosphere.

After they left, I pretty much got ready for bed and slept. M.L. was on the phone, so I was prepared to get out my ipod, but I don’t even remember falling asleep it happened so fast. It was wonderful to have a positive and productive day.