Small Familiarities

Sunday again-- seems like time has been passing both really really fast and really slow...

This week has been a lot of up and down. I don't start actually working at the school until tomorrow, so this past week I didn't have anything I had to do... which was nice in a way, but it has also made it incredibly tempting to hide in my room away from the world and not come out.

I didn't. It was hard, but I did manage to do things.

On Monday I was actually quite busy, first meeting with my pedagogical advisors (referentes) at the Ministry of Education, and then in the evening going to the Institute that I will be teaching at for the first to meet some of the professors. In between the meetings, I had to attempt to learn how to take los colectivos, the buses, and oh boy... that is a steep learning curve.

First of all, Google Maps knows nothing.

I do not know what version of the bus routes or las paradas (stops) it is working from, but if you want any hope of catching the correct bus and getting to the right place in Córdoba, do NOT look on Google Maps.

For a while I was at a loss about how on earth to even find bus stops. My Airbnb host was able to tell me where to find the bus stop for the 43, the only bus that comes close to the house (funny, because the 43 was the bus I took home from school all throughout high school in San Francisco... small similarities like that can be comforting). The problem, however, is that the bus route going TO Central Córdoba is not exactly the same as the bus route coming back FROM Central Córdoba. So it wasn't like I could just walk across the street and find a stop to return-- I had to figure out which street the 43 going the opposite direction was on, and then find a stop along there.

My first bus trip was from my Airbnb location down to the Ministry of Education, and it was successful (although I was concerned when the bus took several turns that were of course not shown on Google Maps, and I accidentally got off a couple stops too early and had to walk a little further).

In many ways the buses are very similar to the ones I am used to in San Francisco. The biggest difference, however, is that they don't seem to be particularly worried about whether the doors are open or closed. Above a certain speed limit, the doors to the bus do close, but when approaching a stop, the doors swing open while the bus is still moving and everyone waits until the bus has slowed somewhat and then just hops out. Sometimes the bus will come to a complete stop, sometimes you just kinda gotta go for it. And then the doors remain open as the bus rolls away from the stop.

Hey, it means you get a nice breeze.

Just gotta remember to hold on.

With some some directions from my referentes at the Ministry of Education, I successfully found the bus stop to get home. I also found that 2-3pm is siesta rush-hour on public transit, and I watched three buses go by without stopping before I finally caught a bus home, after waiting about 45 minutes.

I've mentioned my struggles to several residents of Córdoba, and I'm not sure whether I should be relieved or concerned that they seem equally befuddled by the way the buses work.

But I really am getting better at using the buses, AND I finally learned about miautobus.com, which appears to be the only website that has accurate information about los colectivos in Córdoba. Absolutely a life-saver.

In order to get from my current Airbnb to the Institute where I'll be teaching, I have to take the 43 all the way into the Center, and then hop on a different bus that takes me all the way out to the institute (quite a ways from the Center)-- overall a 50 minute bus ride one way, or up to an hour and a half when I have to wait a while for the buses (no, there are no digital clocks at the stops telling you when the next bus is coming... the best way to judge how long it will be is by the line of people waiting. At the main stop downtown, 5 people = it's gonna be a while, 25-30 people = okay this bus better come soon).

Obviously such a long commute to and from work is not ideal, especially since my classes will be at night, so the rest of my week was spent visiting Airbnb places closer to the Center so that I will just have to catch one bus from there. I have some pretty cool options, including the modern, bright, open apartment of an artist, and the cozy apartment of a vegetarian chef who lives part time in the mountains outside of Córdoba.

While visiting apartments, I got to explore the city some more, which was really nice. On Friday I went to see La marcha por el día de Memoria por la Verdad y la Justicia, the march for the Day of Memory for Truth and Justice. The 24th of March is a National Holiday to recognize the military coup in 1976 that led to the deaths and disappearances of thousands of people. (Article in Spanish, with photos, here: http://www.lavoz.com.ar/politica/masiva-marcha-en-cordoba-por-el-dia-de-la-memoria)

Another Fulbright recipient helped me get in contact with an Argentine student living in Córdoba who invited me to come with her, and it was an amazing experience. Thirteen full city blocks full of people who believe strongly in holding the memory of past trauma in order to push forward with change, promoting everything from public education to socialism to acceptance of gender diversity. Córdoba is an incredibly politically active city (it is, after all, home to a university) and there is graffiti everywhere-- not tagging, but always with a political message. I've seen graffiti calling for legal abortion (which does not currently exist in Argentina), protesting police violence, and denouncing transphobia.

One of my favorite signs at the march said Sin justicia, no hay abrazos: "Without justice, there are no hugs."

<3

The march was a little overwhelming at times, but it reminded me a lot of San Francisco in some ways.

It's funny how much familiarity can change things. I know it's a totally normal part of culture shock, but the mood swings of this week have been very real. I've felt totally down and scared and uncertain, and I've felt really calm and happy and alive. Yesterday a couple other Fulbrighters came up for the weekend and we went on a day trip up to Cuesta Blanca, a tiny town with a river to swim in, and we had an awesome day out. Taking the bus back from our outing was the first time I have returned "home" to Córdoba: the first time that coming into the city has felt like coming back to something, not arriving to something new. I kept noticing street signs as we got off the bus-- dark blue with simple white font-- and realizing they were familiar. After a week of staring at street signs trying to figure out where I am and where I'm going... I know what they look like here. I know the color and the font and the size and the numbers underneath the street name to indicate what building addresses are on that block.

I don't have a lot of that feeling yet. Almost everything I do, from buying cheese in the market to speaking to a potential Airbnb host, I have no foundation for what the expectations are. It makes me anxious, knowing that it is going to be obvious I don't know what I'm doing. But these small moments of familiarity-- when I see the bus stop I now know, when I see someone waving a rainbow flag in a march, when I recognize the street name on a dark blue sign-- it reminds me that familiarity is something I build, slowly, by doing.

And writing this blog post has reminded me how much I have done in the past week. I've written a lot, and I still haven't covered everything!

So, while I have had moments of sitting alone in my room watching Netflix because I can't handle going out into the world, I have not given in to the desire to completely hide away. I have done a lot, and parts of it have been really amazing. I know that this adjustment period is going to be one of the hardest parts, but it helps to recognize the changes each day, the small familiarities that are beginning to accumulate.

A couple pics to close (sorry I don't have many this time):

Racing forward at the march

Did I mention my friend's brother was performing after the march? Super cool to hear local music and dance some!

Soy extranjera

It hasn't even been a full week yet and so much has happened, I honestly don't even know where to start.

It seems unreal that a week ago at this time, I was at my house in San Francisco, taking a nap and finishing up my final preparations for the 12:01am flight from San Francisco to Mexico city, then Mexico City to Buenos Aires.

Although maybe it makes a little more sense when I think about the fact that, between the 20+ hours I spent traveling to Argentina and the 10+ hours I spent traveling from Buenos Aires to Córdoba, I have been in transit almost a quarter of the past week.

I'm pretty exhausted.

Between arriving in Argentina and the bus ride to Córdoba, I attended four days of orientation in Buenos Aires. The first day was only a half day, and I had the morning to explore. I walked from the hotel to La plaza de mayo, one of the most important locations in Argentina, where La casa rosada (the presidential office) is and where las Madres de Plaza de Mayo still walk every Thursday in protest and memory of los desparecidos, the people "disappeared" during the military dictatorship, and los hijos apropiados, their children who were illegally adopted and given new families and new identities. After walking around the plaza (and seeing a whole lot of feminist/anarchist graffiti), I found one of the many librerías, or bookshops, around the city and finally bought a copy of Cien años de soledad, by Gabriel García Marquez, to (hopefully) read while I'm here (full disclosure: I've only made it through 4 pages so far).

After my morning excursion, I returned to the hotel to meet up with the Argentine Fulbright Commission representatives and the other grant recipients... and entered into a meeting entirely in Spanish. Which I probably shouldn't have been surprised by, but even after 8 years of Spanish in school, it was a bit of a shock to enter into orientation almost entirely in Spanish-- not to mention Spanish with an Argentine accent. Most people comment on the use of "vos" instead of "tú," but one of the things I had to get used to very quickly was that the "y" or "ll" sound is replaced with a "sh" sound... for instance, la lluvia (the rain) is pronounced "la shuvia." During one part of the orientation, someone was telling us about how we might have people calling us "shankee," and it took me several minutes to finally figure out what that meant... were we expected to shank someone?? Was someone going to shank us?? Was it something to do with "janky"? And then I finally realized-- not "shankee" but "Yankee"... just with the "y" sound replaced by "sh."

So far I think my favorite part of this trip has been meeting all of the other grant recipients, each of whom are incredibly friendly and unique. After long days in meetings from 8:30am-6:00pm, we would get together to travel around the city a bit, exploring some restaurants, different neighborhoods-- even catching a tango performance in a small plaza in the San Telmo barrio of Buenos Aires. Even though it was only four days, it was sad to see everyone split off to their different sites.

Ah, and that was where things got harder. After those days of orientation and exploring, I stayed up at the hotel trying desperately to figure out what was supposed to happen with my visa de courtesia (the 6-month visa that I wasn't able to get before leaving the States, and thus am currently here on a 90-day tourist visa), what I was supposed to be teaching, and where I was going to actually live when I got to Córdoba. The three-week notice of acceptance I had for the grant was really not quite enough to get everything figured out, and I've felt kinda frantic about it all. By the time I was leaving for Córdoba, though, I had successfully printed my ticket for an ómnibus from Buenos Aires to Córdoba and located an Airbnb for a reasonable price with a host who, somehow, also happened to be friendly vegetarian artist with a cat who does yoga (sound like a good match, much?).
((edit: the host does yoga. although actually, from the morning stretches I've seen, the cat does yoga too.))

The bus ride wasn't quite as smooth as it good have been. One other grant recipient was traveling with me to Córdoba, though, so at least I wasn't alone. At about 7:30pm, over an hour before our 8:45pm departure, we started trying to hail a taxi from the hotel... and repeatedly failed to find an available official Radio Taxi, to the point at which I was really starting to get anxious about time. I had walked to the bus terminal the other day, so I knew it wasn't far, but we had a whole lot of stuff to transport between the two of us. Finally we just called an Uber (which does exist in Buenos Aires, but appears not to anywhere else in Argentina). Cars in Argentina are NOT made to fit three large suitcases, one medium suitcase, a duffel, a backpack, and three humans... but the Uber driver was incredibly kind and patient with us and somehow we made it work.

When we got to Retiro, the bus terminal, we found that the platform numbers (yes: numbers, not number) listed on our tickets were actually just suggestions, and we had no idea which platform our bus would arrive to or whether it would actually be on time. After asking several of the other bus drivers, we figured out what general vicinity to wait in at about the exact same time the bus was supposed to be there, and were able to see it pull in. However, we realized that somehow the people who helped my fellow grant recipient print his ticket had accidentally printed a second version of MY ticket... and the instructions specifically said that people without a printed ticket would not be allowed to board. The drivers told my friend to run up to a kiosk to print it, which apparently didn't work, because after everyone else boarded the bus and I stood their with all of our bags trying to explain again why my compañero had the wrong ticket printed (and to stall for time until he could get it done), he came running back-- with no ticket. A heated discussion occurred between a group of the drivers and myself and my fellow grant recipient, until finally he was allowed to board after showing his passport.

Relieved that I was at long last on my way to an actual bed in my Airbnb in Córdoba, I settled into my reclining seat on the bus and watched the screen at the front, which was showing a black and white movie with Spanish subtitles. I was trying to figure out what movie it was (it looked like Audrey Hepburn, but I couldn't quite tell from where I was sitting toward the back) when one of the drivers walked out and started asking if anyone had seen it and what they thought.

I muttered No la he visto, "I haven't seen it," with no intention of actually getting a response. The driver looked at me and said ¿Sí? and I shook my head rapidly, since I knew nothing about the movie.

The driver laughed and announced to the whole bus Ella no entiende lo que estamos diciendo porque es extranjera, "She doesn't understand anything we're saying because she's a foreigner," to the general amusement of the bus.

I know that it was a joke, that this is probably exactly an example of cultural differences... but after a long day of trying and trying to get things right, I responded almost yelling ¡Entiendo por lo menos un poco!, "I understand at least a little!" Yeah, not a great comeback, I know, but honestly saying anything in Spanish is hard, and I can't even come up with snappy responses in English.

Okay okay, ella habla español-- "Okay okay, she speaks Spanish"-- he responded, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender, still smiling. After a few more moments chatting with the passengers at the front of the bus, he returned to the drivers' area.

Now, I'm not actually upset that this happened, but I would be lying if I said I didn't spend the next 15 or so minutes fighting off tears.

It's true-- I am a foreigner. Even if my Spanish were perfect, it is obvious from my facial structure and the color of my skin and the way I dress and the way I act that I'm not from here. And I think one of the really important things about a cultural exchange like Fulbright is that we get a sense of what that feels like: to be a "foreigner," struggling to speak a language that is not your native tongue, struggling to learn the customs and expectations of a culture totally different from your own. Especially for citizens of the United States right now, this seems like such an important understanding to have. It is essential that instead of simply fearing those that we label as "other," "alien," "strange," or "foreigner," we are able to empathize with them.

My experience is not the same as many refugees and immigrants who come to the U.S. My decision to come to Argentina came from a place of privilege; I have a grant providing financial assistance, I know that my stay is temporary, and I arrive with a system of support both here and back in my country of origin. But even that small interaction, that label "extranjera" (which, of course, shares the same root as "extraña," or "strange"), is something that I want to remember, not because it was particularly pleasant but because it reminded me why intercultural exchange and empathy for those who are different is so important.

I hope, also, that it serves as a point that I can later look back to and see how much has changed over the coming months. On Saturday morning, when I finally arrived at my airbnb around 9am after very minimal sleep on the bus, I stumbled through a conversation with my airbnb host. As I headed to my room, she said she thought I came here to improve my Spanish, but my Spanish was already very good. So hey, there is that. And I managed to chat in Spanish for about 30 minutes or so with a young French-Russian traveler who is staying at the same Airbnb! And I understood pretty much the entire orientation. So I'm doing alright. And I know the language is going to be hard for the first couple months.

There are about a million more things I could write about-- like I said, so much has happened the past week I am still reeling. But I'll end this post with some photos from the last couple days-- it's not a great idea to have an iPhone out in public so there aren't as many as I'd like, but here are a few:

Beautiful clouds and mountains during the flight from Mexico City to Córdoba

Selfie while exploring some of the parks in Buenos Aires my first morning there-- if you look reeeeeeally closely, you might be able to see the rainbow flag hanging on one of the buildings in the background.

Me, completely soaked, after walking 30 minutes home in the rain after day 2 of orientation... yep, it was a brilliant idea. Me encanta la lluvia. <3

Kitty chilling on a wall

Kitty chilling with a statue

Kitty chilling at the cemetery (noticing a trend?)

The burial place of Eva Duarte, wife of Juan Perón, also known as Evita (yes, the one played by Madonna)

Close up of the memorial

Wait a second... I thought I was traveling to Argentina, not back to the UK??

Stumbled across an exhibit on Irish literature in Central Córdoba... with a bunch of Spanish copies of Ulises.

This piece of art in one of the museums in Córdoba that is giving me a real weird smile O.o