City Girl, Country Adventures

For all my talk of being a city girl, there is nothing like getting away from the crowds and exploring around in nature. Most of my favorite places and many of my happiest memories take place in the outdoors... so as much as I love city life, I don't think I could do it without getting away from it all every now and then.

I'm writing this post much later in the day than usual because today I went for a day trip to Capilla del Monte (small town in the mountains a couple hours out from Córdoba Capital) and then we stopped by Paseo de las artes (crafts fair) on the way back, so I got home kinda late...

I'm super tired, so I am just gonna toss in some pics and some captions, and next week I'll do a little more writing.

Who knew there were polar bears in Argentina?

Waiting for food on the terrace of the Bruncheria with some hair-twirling cutie... ;)

The colors on the buildings in Capilla del Monte, with the mountain in the background... so pretty!!

Apparently Capilla del Monte is known for UFO sightings...

Yep, it's a dessert! Kinda made me feel like I was in Arizona... the landscape seemed really similar.

Running water! It is so amazing to see natural water... I miss living by the ocean like crazy. Apparently this stream is where the indigenous people escaped to and hid after the Spanish conquistadors invaded their home... it's a serene and gorgeous location, but still a reminder of the violent history (not only of this country but of all the Americas)

Adventure buddies! Yes, I climbed through that lovely slit too... this was definitely more of a scramble/spelunking adventure than a hike (which made it even more fun). We got the tip for this hike from the Tourist Information Center in Capilla del Monte. After answering our questions and being clearly confused by our different accents, the person behind the desk looked us over skeptically and said "Una pregunta estatística... de dónde son??" A statistical question... where are you guys from??? We laughed at the way she asked the question, but it made sense for her to be confused. Between us, we're from three major cities: San Francisco, Chicago, and London. One of my favorite things about traveling abroad is getting to go on adventures with groups of people from all over the world.

We made it to the end of the trail and still got back to the bus on time! Hella backlit photo but this place was seriously amazing.

 As you can see, Shaughn visited! I have had three consecutive visitors (first the other Fulbright scholar, then Shaughn, then a British student doing study abroad work in Buenos Aires). This has given me lots of opportunity to go out and explore new restaurants and go for day trips. Shaughn and I managed to find a ton of good food, so I now know where to take anyone out to eat if they come to visit! Unfortunately, he had to endure the cold showers at my apartment during his whole visit.

With Shaughn back in Germany I am alone again... and while I love independence, I'm definitely missing having someone around to go places with me and get to actually chat with about everything at the end of the day.

I know that with my talk of cold showers and long bus rides and broken chargers I have made Argentina sound super appealing, but the country is actually amazing to explore, and I am really grateful to have had another opportunity to do so today.

Just another regular week in AR

Wow this week has been a wild ride... (but when has it not been)

First of all, something you probably already know and don't need to be told: Never use an electric shower.

The beginning of this week, on Monday, I had to take a quick shower after my aerial rope class so that I could get to the bus on time to make it to school. The water wasn't getting warm, so I just took a cold shower because I didn't have time to deal with it-- occasionally the fire in the water heater in our apartment goes out, and I more or less know how to restart it but I just wasn't able to figure it out on Monday.

Turns out, it wasn't just that the fire had gone out, it was that the gas had mistakenly been shut off in the entire apartment.

No hot water.

No stove.

No oven.

Fun times.

Meanwhile, I've had multiple visitors coming to Córdoba this week. I've had a great time getting to explore different places both inside city limits and within the Córdoba province.

Before I get back to the electric shower, some of the stuff I've been up to:

- I have eaten at a ton of new restaurants!! I now know of an excellent (although slightly pricey) pasta restaurant that serves sorrentini, a ravioli-like pasta that seems to be made nowhere else but Argentina but is absolutely amazing; a Middle Eastern restaurant (hummus, oh how I missed you!) with a super nice waiter who served us baklava at the end of the meal; the Brunchería, which actually has amazing tortillas españolas (an another miracle called Dulce de leche latte); Papanato, where everything on the menu includes potatoes... which I never thought would appeal to me after the overabundance of potatoes during my time in England, but this place was phenomenal; and several tasty choripan and empanada joints.

- I visited La Perla, one of the largest Centros de detención clandestino (Clandestine Detention Centers) that functioned during the military dictatorship. Some 2,200-2,500 people passed through this center. Around 150 survived. My companion wrote an emotional blog post describing our visit there and how difficult-- and important-- it is to see this part of Argentine history.

Gabrielle in La Plata - La Perla

The view of the open blue sky and the mountains in the background was beautiful, the birds were chirping, fall leaves crunched underfoot, bright green parrots perched at the top of telephone poles... the calm and picturesque beauty of the natural surroundings created a sickening contrast to the historical plaques describing the conditions of the victims, the rooms in which they were tortured, the children they gave birth to who to this day have not been found.

I could stand inside the living quarters, or stare at the commander's offices, or look at the art installations memorializing and depicting the faces and names of the people who suffered here, who disappeared... and I could try to imagine, but I couldn't imagine. I've never been to one of the concentration camps in Europe. Perhaps it would be a similar feeling. It is something I really can't describe.

I'd like to take time to write more about this experience and reflect a bit on the Argentine history that I knew before getting here and have learned since arriving, but given everything else that is going on, I don't feel like I've been able to fully process it all yet.

- I have become much more comfortable walking pretty much everywhere in Córdoba within a 2-4km radius of my apartment-- I've just about got a map of downtown and Nueva Córdoba in my mind.

- I have walked through Paseo de las artes at least five times and am still overwhelmed each time I go because everything at the artesenal crafts fair is gorgeous. I can say without doubt that it is my favorite crafts fair that I have ever been to anywhere in the world.

- I have gotten creative with meals using only a microwave... I remembered how my dad used to make me microwaved scrambled eggs sometimes in the morning when we were running late, and I actually loved it as a kid. Made some microwave quesadillas with microwave scrambled eggs and it wasn't actually half bad.

- I've heard about several more muggings, including one that happened at the bus stop where I used to wait for the bus home after my night classes, only 45 minutes or an hour after I had left the stop. No one was seriously injured, but it's still scary. The thing is that it can happen during the day, and it can happen regardless of gender, and it can happen even if you're not alone... I'm working very hard to be as safe as possible, but living with that slight sense of constant anxiety is something that I think most people here are simply used to, and it is something I am struggling to come to terms with during my own (voluntary, temporary) stay in the country.

- I have continued to attend classes at my institute, working with teachers, exchanging English and Spanish slang, and spending time with a few of the students outside of class.

- I checked out the Che museum at his childhood home in Alta Gracia and explored the rest of the town:

Chillin' with Che 

Original Motorcycle Diaries!

I'm not certain if it was the actual moto, but same model as the one Ernesto Guevara took on his first trip around Latin America!

Bad lighting, cute house

Gorgeous lake in Alta Gracia

Some Old Building That May Be Important But We Didn't Have Enough Cash To Buy Another Entrance Ticket To A Museum So We Will Never Know

Yep, that about summarizes my activities of the week.

Sadly, the gas has not yet been turned back on.

I suppose it's actually perfect timing, because I have been going out for many meals with people anyways. It would be nice to have the option to fry an egg for breakfast, or boil some pasta, but hey I am grateful for microwaves and fresh fruit and carrots with peanut butter.

And then there is the shower...

I am not totally against cold showers. It kinda sucks when it's cold outside and then you also have to get into the cold water, and we had a few chilly days this week, but generally I adjust quickly and I feel like I waste less water and come out refreshed.

But, understandably, the owner of our apartment was not thrilled about cold showers, and she told me with joy on Wednesday that she had gotten una ducha eléctrica. ¿Qué?!, I asked-- what?!-- and she responded in English "An electric shower!" It wasn't a language issue, I assured her-- I understood what she said, I just had no idea what that actually meant.

Apparently, she got a shower head that you plug into an outlet and it heats the water as it runs through it. There is very little shower head to run through, so it draws a ton of power just to moderately heat the water.

You may be thinking "this sounds like a horrible idea."

You would be right.

They got it installed (after accidentally short-circuiting an extension cord... warning sign???), and still there was no way I was going to try it. But after two people having successful not-freezing showers, and after no hot shower for a week, I was willing to give it a really quick try. I soaped up and shampooed as quickly as possible, rinsed off, and I had just pulled back the curtain and stepped out of the water to turn the whole contraption off when the smell of something burning reached my nose and I heard a loud pop and I screamed and then everything went dark.

Not because I had been electrocuted and died, thankfully (although I promise I have learned my lesson: always always always trust my gut and NEVER trust an electric shower!!).

The circuit had blown and cut off electricity in the whole apartment.

At about 11:50pm.

Mom, thank you for insisting I brought a flashlight with me... You were right.

So yeah. We called an electrician at midnight and sat around in the dark eating apple with dulce de leche (well, I was eating dulce de leche) and we were lucky enough to have our lights back on and functioning before 2 in the morning.

As I said, it has been quite a wild week. I felt horrible about being the one to break the electric shower, even though I know it wasn't my fault. Hopefully the gas will be turned on by Tuesday, otherwise I will be adjusting to cold showers and microwaved oatmeal for a little while.

The apartment owner really is a lovely person, and she has felt awful about all of this happening and is doing everything she can to fix it as quickly as possible. The apartment itself has been great in other ways (especially in that, with its location right on a major street, not only am I close to almost all of the city public transit, I feel fairly safe walking home from the bus stop even at midnight or later, and that is very important). But both the apartment owner and I have pity-laughed at how awful our luck has been lately.

However, in one way I am lucky (or have finally learned to be extra-prepared).

When the electric shower short-circuited the system, my laptop was plugged in.

I was absolutely terrified that somehow, I may have fried both my new charger and my laptop.

BUT I had been using my surge protector, and the entire contraction, surge protector, charger, and laptop, survived the incident without any damage! I am extremely grateful for that. If I had to handle another laptop issue on top of the gas and power outages, I would... well, I would handle it, but I would be really freakin' frustrated.

I know that I've complained a lot, in this post and in this blog, about the struggles I've had here. And the struggles have been real, and I do want to be honest about them. But I also want to reiterate that there have been some pretty awesome opportunities here, too. I've had an awesome time visiting places this week, and I feel like I am learning so much about language (both English and Spanish), and especially this past week, I've gone through everything with really cool people (both new people in my life and old).

Close Together Miles Apart

Sunday!

There is so much going through my head right now...

I just got off the phone with my dad, who is on his way to pick up my grandmother, so that he can take her to the book release party for my aunt.

This is my aunt's second book release this year, and I cannot describe how excited and proud that makes me feel. Since I was little, my aunt has been an inspiration to me-- especially as a creative writer and a teacher (in many senses of the word). She was one of the people who supported me through my decision to accept the Fulbright when I found out only three weeks before the start of the grant, and I credit her as one of the reasons I am where I am today.

When I woke up this morning, I didn't know that her book release was today... and I happened to put on the exact same outfit that I wore to her last book release, which I was able to go to when I was still in the Bay Area.

I swear that despite being physically distant, there is some subconscious connection between people who care deeply about each other.

That goes beyond the clothes I chose to wear today.

On Friday morning, I was answering one of the letters a student had sent me to practice English (in one class I have started an English pen-pal project, which is wonderful). In the letter I wrote that morning, I ended up writing a paragraph about my sister:

"I also have one sibling, a younger sister named Sarah Kate. She just finished her first year of college! She and I used to fight all the time when we were little, but now we are like best friends. We share almost everything with each other. She sings in a choir (a singing group) and she got a scholarship to school because of her singing. She is a kind, sensitive person who is very supportive of her friends. I am so proud of her, and I miss her very much."

About an hour later, I got a snapchat from my sister as she got on the plane home, telling me that she was thinking of me. (Yes, it is common that we both think of each other, but like... we usually only actually express it every few weeks, and it seemed notable that our thoughts were especially aligned that day).

Additionally, the past couple weeks I have been having recurring dreams about my grandparents. I have woken up crying from some of them-- waking up with tears actually pouring down my face is something that has happened, albeit rarely, my whole life. In these dreams about my grandparents I've processed a variety of emotions, from guilt about not being at home to appreciation for the moments I've shared with them, especially in the last couple months.

On Friday evening, I had gone over to Victoria's house again, this time for dinner. Her whole family was there: husband, three kids, and parents (/the kids' grandparents). I helped her make homemade lasagna, using a mixture of cream sauce and tomato sauce just like I do with my mom at home, and we shared a wonderful meal with her family. They were kind and silly and passionate about Argentina and wonderfully welcoming to me. On the car ride back, Victoria asked me if it was true that people in the United States didn't spend as much time with their extended families. I said it was true for many people, but that my family had a strong tradition of coming together, and that was something I was very proud of of. As she dropped me off back at my apartment downtown, I thanked her again for the wonderful evening, telling her that having the chance to be around her whole family made me feel just a little less homesick for my own.

Before getting ready for bed I called my mom, who had just left work. My dad and sister were with my grandfather.

Our call was cut off by the wifi being slow, and my mom called me back about 15 minutes later to confirmed what I think we both felt: my grandfather had just passed away.

I knew, when I said goodbye to him before leaving for the Fulbright, that it might be the last goodbye I ever got to say goodbye in person.

In the past two weeks, before I got the call from my mom, I went through a lot of emotions about that fact... so when it actually happened, I felt more or less at peace with it.

I wish I could have been there, but at the same time I know that it was as caring, as comfortable, as loving as it could have been.

I was listening to music before my mom called, and after we hung up I kept scrolling through my song library, trying to find something that felt right.

I started many songs, but kept stopping partway through (stopping songs partway through is something I almost never do).

I finally ended up playing the song that my dance teacher used to play during warm-ups. It just seemed right.

And at 1am, in my pajamas in my 4th floor apartment room in Córdoba, Argentina, I stood up and I started to dance.

I don't know why that's what I had to do-- I wouldn't usually identify as a dancer, although the modern dance classes I took in college were some of the most transformative classes I ever took.

I went through the movements of the dance warm-up that we used to do, which starts slow and gentle and repetitive: letting your chin fall to your chest, slowly bending to the floor leading with your head, touching the ground with your palms, allowing your knees to bend into a crouched position, and rocking two or three times before reversing the movement and rising back up to standing. Repeat, three times.

Then we would move through a series of stretches, which I did, evolving slowly into what my dance teacher called a "jam"-- closing your eyes and just moving, "dancing," however feels right, for however long.

I think that late night "jam," this strange dance I did alone in my room, was my way of physically understanding the death of my grandfather.

(I'm pausing, while writing this, to just breathe for a moment. I noticed, both Friday evening and now, how it seemed like details came into focus more, like I was hyper-aware of my own heartbeat, eyesight, breath, life.)

It's strange to be in Argentina right now, but at the same time it's not strange.

I don't feel isolated.

I don't feel like I am so far away from my family.

I feel close.

Yesterday, I decided it was really time to do something with the bananas that I had that were getting overripe, and I attempted to make stovetop banana bread (baking, like listening to music, dancing, and writing, is a common method of self-care and processing for me).

My sister called me on Whatsapp, and I put her on speakerphone, and we talked while I mashed bananas and mixed in guestimated amounts of sugar, butter, oil, flour. On my sister's end, my mom got home and started talking in the background.

It felt so similar to being with them, while I baked, hearing their voices.

(The banana bread actually turned out pretty well. It's not quite as fluffy as it would be if it could rise in the oven, but it is cooked through and it tastes like banana bread, and that is what matters.)

Every night, before I go to bed, I write three things in a gratitude journal. I know it's a little cheesy, but it's a habit I started during one of the meditation series I did, and I noticed it actually making a difference in my mindset throughout the day, so I kept it up.

A lot of times, at least one of things I write is something I ate that day.

One time I wrote:

1) Sleep
2) Sleep
3) Sleep

The truth is usually, I think of way more than three things to say.

Sometimes small things.

the way the glass of Coca Cola someone poured was sparkling on the surface and it was strangely beautiful, strangely reminiscent of the night sky

Sometimes big things.

the way that my grandparents fostered our Lake house to be a place where the family came together each summer, a place where the cousins had adventures, learned life lessons, and discovered ourselves-- were free to be ourselves

dulce de leche

the possibilities of modern technology, which allow me to hear my mom and sister's voices from the kitchen of my house in San Francisco while I work in the kitchen of my apartment in Córdoba

the fact that I can record a voice message and send it five thousand miles and my dad can play it for my grandparents so that they can hear my voice even if I'm not there

dulce de leche on bananas

having long conversations with people in a mixture of Spanish and English and realizing that language is less of a barrier to meaningful connections than I thought it would be

running through the quiet, empty streets of Córdoba midday on Sundays

pastelitos with dulce de leche

the way Argentine people say waffles, like "woff-less"

people I have only just met offering to drive me to a safer bus stop to make sure I get home okay

dulce de leche on apples

discovering new types of vegetarian empanadas

feeling appreciated and accepted where I work

how much Argentine people love dulce de leche

time to introspect and be really present with myself, in my body, in my mind

having a functioning laptop charger

how much I love dulce de leche

how much I love my family... I am grateful for my family but I am specifically grateful for how much I love them. Being able to feel connected despite being far apart, being able to think of ways in which every single member of my family has shaped me, has become a part of me, has made me who I am. I'm grateful to be able to feel that, to feel the vastness of that love.

I'm going to include some pictures now, but I feel like this post doesn't really end... the processing is continuing, the list goes on

Tons of people hanging out at the park on Monday, Día de trabajadores (Labour Day)

Attempt at catching a pic of people chatting in the courtyard of the school, also the sky which was really pretty

Victoria's 7-year-old made this adorable Spanish-English color dictionary for me.... <3

Sitting on the terrace at the Brunchería on an absolutely gorgeous day in Córdoba

Café Mocha and REAL LIFE PANCAKES for BREAKFAST and they-- it, rather, because obviously "pancakes" = one pancake cut in quarters-- was actually really GOOD

Adventure Time energy drinks?? (I may have bought the Marceline one...)