Where I Am: Life Update and Deets About My Living Situation

So this past Monday, I got a message from my advisor at the school I work at saying that there was a bus strike happening that day, and I was not expected to make it to school.

The bus strike, or paro de colectivos, was not just a one-day event, but actually lasted all week.

Every single city bus line shut down.

Well, apart from one that tried to run for a few hours on Tuesday but had to stop because it was too dangerous for the drivers.

If you read Spanish, here's an article about the strike:
http://www.perfil.com/cordoba/caos-de-transporte-por-paro-de-colectivos-en-cordoba.phtml

Despite checking in with my advisor and professors and trying to find a carpool, I wasn't able to go to classes at all this week (apparently they don't really carpool much here/no one who drives to the school lives close to the City Center). I had even planned to chaperone a field trip for one of the high schools I've visited, but so many students have been unable to commute to school that our outing was cancelled, too.

So instead, I went to my aerial rope class (which is within walking distance), I researched and created a presentation of LGBTQ Pride to share that piece of US/San Francisco culture, I met up with one of my students who was also stranded in the city center for an afternoon merienda (afternoon snack) of mate and medialunas (croissants), I walked a mile and a half to the farmer's market to pick up some fresh produce, and I found a nice bookstore + cafe where I bought the third Harry Potter book.

Because I've been spending so much time at home, I thought it might be nice to describe in more detail where I live (the apartment itself and the surrounding area).

I share the apartment with two other people: the owner who runs her own art gallery here, Geo, and another young, artistic Argentine who studies at the University, Vicky.

Our apartment is on the fourth floor, and there are some (very old) elevators (like the kind where you have to manually open and close the outside gate and then the inside gate), but I always take the stairs because hey it's good exercise, and 4th floor is exactly as far as I get before starting to feel tired.

You open the wooden double doors to a long hallway, the walls all painted white...

If you take your first left after entering the hallway, you find yourself in the kitchen, which is actually really big for Argentina standards:

When you turn right out of the kitchen, you enter the dining room/Geo's work space, where Monday-Friday I usually find Geo and her team sitting around the table working on design, sales, organizing, and everything else they do:

Through the archway is the gallery space, which you can also enter by continuing straight through the main hallway:

It's bright and open, dark blue curtains hang from ceiling to floor, the stark white walls are split by strips of color, and a few photographs from the last showing that have not yet been sold are still up.

The gallery space continues far to the left in another room, and from that room there is another long hallway:

All of our rooms, as well as the main bathroom, branch off of this hallway. Geo and Vicky's rooms are at the back, behind the curtain, and the bathroom is right before the curtain:

Yes, the bathroom that has been the location of many an ice-cold shower... complete with bidet (like most bathrooms here, although I question whether anyone actually uses it).

The first room off that long hallway is my room:

It's a bit of a cluttered mess at the moment-- I just got out of bed and am working at the desk, so you can see the orange peels and other remains of my breakfast. The closet doesn't have hanging space, so I have dresses and jackets hung up next to the window (which is also where I hang my laundry to dry).

My room has two doors. When I took this photo, I was standing in the doorway from the hallway at the back of the apartment, and the doorway that you see in the picture leads back to the living room/Geo's workspace.

My room is probably the nicest after Geo's-- it's super spacious and I have a huge queen bed, and there is artwork lining the walls:

Sorry, mom, I usually make my bed just haven't gotten to it yet this morning...

I've really grown quite comfy in this room, and the apartment as a whole. I know a lot of people were questioning why on earth I would stick through three weeks of cold showers and no stove... but it's largely because I just really like the vibe of this apartment. I think all of the open spaces and hardwood floors and big windows and natural light remind me of my home in San Francisco-- and my first home, my dad's studio. Also the location is great:

Map of city center, according to Lizzy

Avenida Colón is one of the busiest streets in the city, and my apartment building is right on it, which means that commuting to and from work is quite easy-- when the buses are actually running, that is.

I think the city center itself technically extends more below this map, to Plaza España, but Plaza España is more of a traffic circle, whereas Plaza San Martín is actually a beautiful plaza to just chill in, and all of the streets around it are pedestrian-only walkways lined with shops, so it's a great place to just walk around and feels more central to me.

Yesterday, I considered staying home all day and continuing my pattern of cooking, eating, reading Harry Potter, and watching shows (alternating between American Gods, The Handmaiden's Tale, and Chef's Table). However, my sister encouraged me to get outside (thank you, Bear), and I ended up going for a long walk to attempt to find empanadas and/or churros. Most of my regular places were closed (because it was the weekend), so I ended up with disappointing cold empanadas and tough churros, but afterwards got some good-quality ice cream and sat in Plaza San Martín and enjoyed the weirdly hot weather.

Seriously, it is the middle of June, which should technically be winter, and it was over 20˚!! (in the 70s ˚F)

Sitting in the plaza was wonderful. It was filled with families enjoying the sun and lots of toddlers chasing pigeons, and I realized as I leaned back and ate my ice cream that I felt totally and completely at ease.

I also realized that I actually understood the snippets of conversation I overheard, for the most part.

One of the many things about not being a native language speaker is that understanding words out of context is soooo much harder... but I've actually gotten better at picking things up! Someone's radio was saying something about "...affects the United States too," "Barack Obama," and "the crisis in Syria." The mom sitting next to me with her baby kept complaining about how hot it was. Two people walking down the street seemed to be discussing opinions on a show they just saw. It's no longer like I'm walking around with incomprehensible background speech-- I actually understand most of it.

So it felt really good to get out (and the ice cream was so good... I got one scoop of banana split flavor and one of dulce de leche granizado, which has like chunks of chocolate in it, and I got this one HUGE chunk of chocolate, and I had to actually remove it because it was starting to crush the cone, but this was like GOOD chocolate! mmmmm).

When I got back home, I opened up the windows in the main area of the apartment, sat in the corner right next to them so that I could feel the sun and hear the city sounds outside, and just read Harry Potter for a while.

Happy to be reading HP but sad because Harry's broom got destroyed by the Whomping Willow and also Lupin is my fave I love him so much and him trying to help Harry with the dementors (i.e. depression) when he struggles with it himself is the most emotional thing ahhhhhh

I could have just stayed home the rest of the evening, but everyone I know has been talking about Wonder Woman, and the other day my dad and I were talking about how I should go out to a movie here... sooo I walked around the corner and bought tickets for the 10pm showing of Mujer Maravilla... not subbed, but DUBBED in Castellano (Spanish).

I got to the theatre early and ordered some popcorn, and the popcorn vendor was super nice and we had a short conversation, and his daughter was there with him and when she found out I was here to see Mujer Maravilla she got excited because she was going to see it, too.

I sat down in the theatre, and as the previews were starting, the popcorn vendor and his daughter came in and sat down next to me. :)

The movie began... and I actually understood the entire thing. I missed a few words here and there, and I couldn't understand half of what was said by one of the villains at the end of the movie because they distorted the voice a lot, but I understood it! In Spanish! No subtitles! (And I also understood the questions the little girl was asking her dad throughout, which was cute-- "What is happening?" "How will she survive that?" "Who is that guy?" Her dad was clearly a superhero fan, because he could name a lot of the characters before their names were actually said, and he was definitely familiar with the lore).

After the movie, I chatted with the popcorn guy and his daughter as we exited the theatre, and it took about a minute or two before he asked "Are you from here?"

So I actually passed as a native speaker for a little while! Which was really exciting. And when I did tell him I was from the U.S., he was surprised and said that I spoke Spanish really well. :)

So, while I haven't gotten to do much work at the school this week, I have still tried to be engaged with where I am, both spending some quality alone time in my apartment and continuing to explore my Cordobés neighborhood, and I am finally beginning to see progress in my Spanish language skills.

Mid-Week Post: Cambio / Change

Es necesario un cambio en el circo

Es necesario
un cambio
en el circo

Es necesario un cambio en
el circo

Es necesario un
cambio
en
el
circo

Es necesario un cambio
en el circo

This is the phrase that I repeated, out loud, while moving through the same short aerial rope sequence again and again today in my rope class,

broken into pieces as I caught my breath,

climbed higher, es

flipped myself upside down, necesario

released my grip, un

curled inward, cambio

expanded outward, en

reached up higher, el

lowered myself slowly, circo

climbed up again:

Es necesario un cambio en el circo.

(A) Change is necessary in circus.

My teacher, Flor, is amazing. I believe I have already written about this. She reminds me of my dance teacher from college, whose classes legitimately changed my life and transformed the way I move through the world.

Today, while everyone was warming up (there are two ropes and today we had seven students, so we take turns doing warm-up climbs), Flor had those of us who were waiting for the rope read through a little pamphlet of short essays on circus. She asked us each to pick out a short phrase and memorize it. She told me I could think of a phrase in English if I wanted, but I am used to the entire class being in Spanish, and I liked one of the first phrases that I saw: Es necesario un cambio en el circo. If I am reading it correctly, the author could mean that there is something wrong with circus, that some sort of a change is necessary, but it can also mean that change is a necessary component of circus.

After we had chosen our phrase, she had us create a short series of movements on the rope, something we could repeat a few times.

Then we ran through our sequence, the entire time murmuring our phrase under our breath.

The most common direction I hear in rope class here is "relájate!"-- "relax!" And she's right-- I'm tense, I'm used to focusing on form and technique, on perfectly pointed toes and shoulders back and all that good stuff.

And technique is good, it's important, but my focus also comes with fear.

I'm afraid that I'm not strong enough. That I'm weak.

I'm afraid that my grip will slip.

I'm afraid of failing.

I'm afraid to release both hands even when I know that I have securely wrapped the rope around my legs.

I'm afraid of embarrassing myself in front of these people around whom I already feel stupid because I can't even speak their language right.

All of that fear is visible, visceral, when I climb the rope, when I cling to it. It creates tension, a lack of continuity between the movements. It actually makes doing everything on the rope harder.

The point of this exercise, then, for me and for everyone else, was to get us out of our heads.

Or into our heads?

No, not in or out-- to sync our mind with our body.

Concentrate too much on the words, and the movements become fractured.
Concentrate too much on the movements and we forget to say the words.

The first time was just kind of awkward. Everyone murmured their phrases quietly under their breath, so quietly only bits of words were audible as they exerted particular force.

But as we went through our sequences again and again, Flor encouraged us: "más fuerza!"-- "stronger!"

Not only the words but the movements became stronger. We got tired-- it's hard to stay on the rope for an extended period of time. Endurance is one of the things I struggle with most.

But she pushed us to keep going, to speak louder. Our movements were more fluid. The sequences became something more than just one technique after another. You could see the words emerging through people's bodies-- the savageness of a motion ("tiene que ser salvaje"/"it must be savage"), the smooth intention tying each movement together ("hay una intención"/"there is intention"), the bouncy change from one knee hooked to the other and back ("es necesario un cambio"/"a change is necessary). People were panting, spitting their words out in pieces as they exerted effort to complete the sequence as fully as they had the previous time...

I stopped thinking about my grip.

I stopped thinking about the pinching feeling against my thigh, on my waist.

I stopped feeling stupid for saying those words out loud.

un cambio...

en el circo...

es necesario...

Un cambio. Change has been the focal point of my life recently. I know it's cliche, but I am a sucker for the saying "The only thing that never changes is change itself." After majoring in philosophy, I've gotta say one of my favorite philosophers is Thales, who (as far as we know) had a philosophy based around the principle "Everything is water." This could have a lot of meanings and probably had something to do with a scientific belief about water being the original substance, but I like to interpret it as an acknowledgement of the fluid, ever-changing nature of everything. In the most recent book series I read and loved, the Earthseed books by Octavia Butler, the main character bases her religion not around a conscious god, but around Change. She writes:

"All that you touch
You Change.

All that you Change
Changes you.

The only lasting truth
Is Change.

God
Is Change."

I've been struggling with change recently. Moving to Argentina was a big change, but it wasn't like I moved and everything settled-- ever since I got here, I have experienced constant change. Internally, externally... every week I struggle to focus on a single theme in my blog posts because it just feels like so much has changed.

There was something cathartic about repeating that phrase about change over and over, feeling it more than thinking it.

Circus, in general, is cathartic.

It is Change.

It is constant change of the body and the mind. It is the body daring to do what the mind can scarcely imagine. It is the mind opening to encompass the possibilities that did not exist before.

A couple months ago, when I first got to Córdoba and was trying to settle in and find a circus community, I kind of gave up on circus being a really meaningful side project during my time here. I figured, I'll just take some classes, spend some time doing the same aerial stuff I did at home, and that will be good enough.

I was afraid that I wouldn't find a circus community, that what I had come here searching for in my side project didn't exist.

But of course community exists where there is circus.

And I've found it...

After the activity, we sat down in a circle and processed together. We talked about how something like this, that pushes us beyond mental limitations, that makes us feel kind of silly and embarrassed at first, ultimately has the potential (if we find it within ourselves to engage authentically) to create a sort of sacred space, to bring us together as a group.

Circus is hard. It requires a lot, physically and mentally.

It hurts.

I have bruises on my thighs, on my ankles and the tops of my feet, on my waist. Another student got her first rope burn a couple weeks ago.

Circus marks you.

But when you go through that together, you come out sharing something.

Circus also heals.

After we exhaust ourselves on the rope, our muscles aching and our skin red, we sit down and we take care of ourselves, of each other.

We stretch, gently.

We slowly rub the tension out of our forearms.

We sit in a massage circle and work out the knots in each other's shoulders and backs and necks.

The bruises, the aching, those are necessary for growth. We learn how to treat them. We get stronger.

I kind of feel like any struggle in my life, I can look to circus for a metaphor to help me understand it.

I'm not afraid of bruises. They're just my skin changing color, adapting to these new movements. The appear, and they fade.

I'm not afraid of falling. My grip is improving. I trust the rope. I have a mat underneath me, and a group of people to coach me through difficult positions where I feel like I can't get out safely.

The fear of being weak is an excuse my mind clings to, and when I let it go it is clear it's not true. I am strong enough.

I will become stronger.

And weaker, too. That's okay.

Change is necessary.

I love the phrase Es necesario un cambio en el circo because you start with any word grouping and it means more or less the same thing, with a slight change of emphasis:
Es necesario un cambio en el circo
Un cambio en el circo es necesario
En el circo es necesario un cambio
Es necesario en el circo un cambio
Un cambio es necesario en el circo
En el circo un cambio es necesario

Like even the phrase itself defies immutability.

I don't usually post on Wednesdays, but obviously, things can always change ;)

Plus I missed a post, so I can say this makes up for that.

But yeah, this experience in circus today just felt really important to me, and I really wanted to write that out. There are so many additional pieces to this that didn't quite fit in, and more thoughts bouncing around in my mind. But... mostly I'm glad that circus is part of my life, especially here in Argentina. And I'm really glad for this reminder that I am experiencing things here that I wouldn't have experienced otherwise. I've been clinging onto a lot of fear recently, and I've been feeling pretty exhausted, and receiving this amazing energy from my small aerial rope group has really helped me face those things.

<3 thanks

Es necesario un cambio en el circo / (A) change is necessary in circus
Y el circo crea también un cambio / And circus also creates (a) change

Finding my balance

So I didn't post last Sunday because I was on a last-minute trip to Uruguay to renew my visa, and then I would have posted this past week except I was really busy catching up on things after my trip to Uruguay, but now I am finally caught up and have a day to chill at my apartment, and I have a lot to go over so buckle in!

First of all, I have been trying to figure out for about two months (since I first got to the country) whether or not I needed to leave the country before my 90-day tourist visa in Argentina was up (For reference, I entered AR on March 13, so my 90-day visa would have been up by the end of this week). About a month ago I was told that there may be a process to renew my visa from within the country, and I should just hang tight and they would keep me updated...

I hung in there, and hung in there, and about a week ago I still hadn't heard and I was getting a little worried (especially because I will be traveling to the US on June 20, after my 90-day visa would have ended, and I REALLY didn't want any trouble at the airport), so I contacted the commission again and found out that nope, my options were to leave the country or do some long process that involved possibly mailing my passport to Los Angeles...

So, Uruguay!

(Note: the day after I finally booked all of my tickets to leave the country, i.e. the day before I left, I got another email saying wait, maybe there actually IS a way to extend your visa by visiting some embassy in Córdoba... but at that point it was too late)

I was super lucky to find another Fulbrighter who was going abroad that weekend (we had a long weekend), so I decided to tag along with her.

First, however, the holiday that was the cause of the long weekend takes place on May 25 (two Thursdays ago) and commemorates the revolution that eventually led to Argentina's independence.

This is one of the only days of the year that you can find one of Argentina's traditional foods, locro.

And when I say "you can find" it, what I mean is that every single place in the entire province of Córdoba had a sign outside saying "25 de Mayo locro!" It's like they love this food but they only eat it a couple times a year, and so on those days folks really go crazy with it (a little like turkey and stuffing and cranberry sauce on Thanksgiving, I guess?).

I had booked an overnight bus to Buenos Aires to catch the ferry to Uruguay, and it was leaving at 9pm on Thursday, May 25, but of course I decided I could still join one of my students on an outing to enjoy some 25 de mayo traditions. It was a little stressful trying to make sure I would be able to get everything ready for my trip in time, but I am so glad I went with her!

First, we got to see some traditional dancing:

Viva la patria! (Viva!) = "God save the queen" for England or "Long live America" for the US

This dance was really fun to watch-- parts of it remind me a little of traditional Irish dancing? You can't quite tell in this video, but it was cool to see people of all generations participating-- people from 13 to 80 or so years old!

Then we went to Saldán, which has been named the locro capital of Argentina because of the festival and locro competition every 25 de mayo. According to an article I found online, I was one of 20,000 people to attend the festival in Saldán this year! Dozens of vendors stirred their giant pots of locro for attendees and judges, and at the end of the day one would be named the best locro of the year (unfortunately we didn't stay that long, so the winner will forever be a mystery to me).

Preparing locro!

We grabbed locro from last year's winner, who were a group of teen scouts. They had at least 6 or 7 huge pots of locro going, and served each portion with red aji sauce. I was warned that the aji sauce was very hot and I should only take a spoonful... these are Argentines, though, and they have a lot lower tolerance for spice than I am used to. The aji was barely spicy to me, but quite delicious, and I dumped it on in large quantities. We all got the same locro, and it did have some meat and seafood in it, but I saw vegetarian locros being sold as well, and maybe some day I will try a veggie one!

I forgot to take a picture of my own so am uploading one from Destino Córdoba tourist guide online... but this is more or less what it looked like!

Of course there was also live music:

I had a fantastic time with my host, and am so grateful that she invited me to participate in her traditional celebration of this holiday!

Me and my adopted Argentine mom for the day :)

I got home with enough time to finish packing, and then headed off to the Córdoba omnibus terminal for my Uruguayan adventure.

I've gotten really good at overnight buses.

They still suck, but I know the drill:

1) wait somewhere in the general vicinity of the platform where my ticket says the bus will be
2) walk up to every bus that arrives from the company I'm traveling with and ask to double-check whether it is my bus
3) eventually find the right bus, about 5 minutes after it is supposed to leave
4) wait in line to drop off my bag with the porter, then wait in line to board
5) show my (printed!) ticket and passport
6) take my seat, recline, put on headphones, cover my eyes with my hood, and try to chill and sleep as best I can for the next 9 hours

I've stopped accepting the food they offer because honestly it just makes me feel really disgusting if I eat it. Plus, this time, I had so much locro I wasn't hungry anyways.

I made it in to BA at about 7am, went and hung out at an internet cafe for a bit, and then met up with Aimee, another Fulbrighter, to catch the ferry to Uruguay.

There was a moment of stress when we realized we had walked to the wrong terminal, and that we had to take a taxi about 15 minutes away... we made it to the correct terminal with about 20 minutes before the ferry boarded, and I was a bit anxious because it was an international trip, so shouldn't there be lots of lines? Security?

But it took us maybe 10 minutes at most to check in, stamp our passports, shove our bags through an x-ray machine, and then we were on the ferry to Uruguay!

Colonia del sacramento is a small coastal tourist town in Uruguay, only an hour away from Buenos Aires by ferry. If you ever find yourself in BA, I cannot recommend enough taking the ferry over, even if just for a day-- I LOVED Colonia! It was beautiful and the seashore was amazing and it was... honestly the most at-home and relaxed I have felt in ages. I hadn't realized how much I missed the ocean...

Rambling doesn't describe it, though, so some have some pictures/video:

Colonia used to be a port town for trading, and this was the entrance! Idk what all these folks in uniform are doing, probably from a school, but it looked really cool as they walked through the gate.

The famous Calle de los suspiros (Street of whispers)

My life mantra: No hay amor mas sincero que el amor por la comida / There is no love more sincere than the love for food

Um hello random beautiful ruins with sailboats in the background

For real, Colonia? Do you have to be so perfectly picturesque and gorgeous? *swoons over this view*

Eeee hanging off a lamppost on a little pier at dusk <3

I wish we could have stayed longer (although not too long- it is a very small town, so aside from trying all of the restaurants, there isn't a ton to see for an extended trip).

Alas, we had one night in Colonia and then took the bus the next morning up to Montevideo.

Montevideo was a little chilly and cloudy, and since it was siesta time on a weekend there wasn't a whole lot going on, so we didn't really get a feel for what the city would usually be like. But I still enjoyed it, and I would love to go back in the summer.

La Rambla, the walk along the waterfront, reminded me a lot of the Embarcadero at home

I legit kept getting so excited about the tall buildings... we have tallish buildings in Córdoba, but idk Montevideo like actually felt like a city!! Plus this square was really cool

This is how they made sure the door at the hostel shut all the way... lol

Cool lock fountain! Couldn't get a picture of the whole thing so I took a little video

The best part of Montevideo, though, was that we stumbled across this little boutique called Volverás a mi (an accurate name, since I 100% want to come back to it), and this cute shop was all about selling dark chocolate.

I am pretty sure the salesperson was a little freaked out because I was SO EXCITED to be in this shop, and I bought one of almost every single item they had. We chatted with the clerk in Spanish, and she told us that the chocolate was made on the premises (in the back of the shop), and that they had really struggled for the first 6 months because very few people in this part of the world seem to understand the wonder of chocolate amargo, or dark chocolate.(Me!! I do!!)

AND they had homemade dark chocolate alfajores.

Alfajores are one of the most popular traditional desserts of Argentina-- basically a cookie sandwich with dulce de leche in the middle, usually covered in chocolate.

A few weeks ago, I was having a major It's It craving, and I was trying to explain what an It's It was to an Argentine (it's like an oatmeal cookie sandwich with ice cream in the middle, and it's covered in chocolate...) and they were like "Oh, so kind of like an alfajor?" And that was kinda an epiphany for me, that It's Its are basically the San Francisco alfajor...

Anyways, these handmade dark chocolate alfajores were absolutely amazing, the best alfajores I have had yet.

This shop was heaven and I want to go back and buy everything all over again.

My final purchase: a box of 6 truffles, a container of alfajores, a bag of dark and white chocolate medallions with dried fruit and nuts, a bag of dark chocolate covered dates, a dark chocolate bar with almonds, and one dark chocolate alfajor to eat on the go. <3

After one night in Montevideo it was time to head back to Argentina. We ferried back over to Argentina and I said my farewells to the ocean before hopping on my overnight bus back to Córdoba.

And that brings me up to this past Monday, when I arrived back at the Córdoba omnibus station at 6:30am, walked home to my apartment before the sun had decided to get up, and collapsed in bed.

And woke up to an email telling me that I needed to fill out an application for a visa to go to Brazil for a Fulbright seminar in Rio (which sounds exciting, not saying I'm not grateful for this opportunity)... and I would have to mail my passport to Buenos Aires two weeks before my planned trip to the US.

Which, knowing that mail and visa processes do not always go as planned, was really concerning.

So yeah, the first two days of the week I spent trying to figure out that deal (the plan I finally came to with the Fulbright commission: I will get everything ready, keep my passport and go to the US, and then send them the package with my passport as soon as I get back from the United States so I don't have to worry about getting it back in time to travel. Unfortunately, that does mean we'll be cutting it close for Rio, since I get back from the US on June 28 and the Rio trip is planned for July 10, but I had told them about my trip home at least 2-3 weeks ago and they just told me about this so honestly we'll just have to figure it out).

I've also actually been busy with classes! I've been preparing a few presentations, recording myself reading passages, designing activities, finding relevant Radiolab episodes and Star Trek clips... (lol yes, really-- we're talking about appearance and things like genetic engineering in one class, and so I pulled a clip from one of the Voyagers episodes where B'Elanna Torres tries to change her child's DNA so that they won't have the same Clingon forehead bumps that she did).

So this past week was really exhausting, because I was still recovering from not having a good night's sleep (2 overnight buses and 2 hostels... the hostels were pretty night, but just not the same) and I had tons of stuff to do. Not to mention I was still attempting to make microwave meals and taking ice-cold showers (it's gotten colder here, and that meant the water got colder, too...)

But this weekend I'm finally back on track!

And last night I went to the Ni una menos march.

If you haven't heard it, the slogan ni una menos, not one (feminine) fewer, references the rates of femicide in many parts of Latin America, and the march is a feminist protest against el machismo and patriarcado (patriarchy) at the root of gendered discrimination and violence.

The marches I've been to have been almost more like parties-- there are costumes and laughter and a celebratory attitude, at the same time that everyone chants for rights like legal abortion, or "we want each other alive" (ni una menos, vivas los queremos). People beat their drums and danced for blocks and blocks, and I was astounded that they had the energy to keep it up for hours.

The two university students I marched with talked about their recent experiences abroad in Europe, where they recounted experiencing sexism as well, sometimes to a greater degree and sometimes to a lesser degree, but still ever-present.

This is definitely not just a Latin American issue, and I think it's important to recognize the gendered discrimination and violence that is still occurring throughout the world. The United States is NOT exempt.

Furthermore, gendered violence doesn't exist in a vacuum. I've been thinking a lot about what happened in Oregon, with the two girls who were harassed on a train and the men that lost their lives trying to defend them. The slurs thrown at the girls had to do their racial and ethnic background, but I think it's important to note the gender dynamic that was at play: a grown man threatening young girls. I talk about lack of safety here, but then read on the news about two people dying because they stood up to a racist on a train in Portland...

A few nights ago, one of the male students I work with was on the same bus as me after classes (around 11:30pm). We got off at the same stop, and he offered to walk me home. I accepted, because of course it feels better to not walk alone... but I was also very conscious of how this was evidence of the way this patriarchal system is self-reinforcing. Women who are safe are women who depend on a man to walk with them everywhere they go.

When we got to my apartment, the student asked me, "You walk all this way every night? Alone?"

"Yep," I responded, "I don't really have a choice... I have to commute to Zorrilla somehow."

"You've got balls," he said.

I half-laughed and half-winced.

Because it's not funny, the fact that it takes "balls" to walk home alone late at night.

This is one of the signs that someone held at the march yesterday:

It's a crappy picture because we were walking, but the sign says Camino a casa quiero ser libre, no valiente: "When I walk home I want to be free, not brave."

I want that to be true for all of us, everywhere in the world. Whether we are women, trans, gender-nonconforming, nonbinary... black, hijabis, Latinx, Asian, native/indigenous, Middle Eastern, mixed, "what even are you?"... refugees, foreigners, people who have lived in a country for years or whose family has been there for generations and they still get asked "But where are you really from?"

Wherever I travel, I see these prejudices, these injustices. But I also see people speaking out against it. Oxford, San Francisco, Córdoba... I find love and acceptance and resistance to hate wherever in the world I am.

I feel a little like I'm trying to do that "look on the bright side" thing... which I guess I am. Or at least trying to remember that there is a balancing force. It's not all bad. I've met so many kind people here, I've had people take care of me and share their traditions with me, and I don't want those experiences to be overshadowed by the more difficult ones-- or the opposite, to let the good experiences to erase those things that are hard to deal with. It really is a balance, is all. And the past two weeks I have felt like I've been off-balance... I've been either really really happy and at ease, to the point of ignoring the rest of the world, or I've been really down about things and stressed and overwhelmed by all of the hard-to-deal-with things. So I'm trying to take notice and work my way back to something a little more balanced.

Annnd on the positive side of that balance... we have gas again! And this was my brunch, a piece of toast with melted gruyere, tomato, avocado, and a fried egg, which I cooked on the stove over an actual fire:

Okay okay and one more tie to the whole balance metaphor... in case any of y'all have been wondering what I have been up to in my rope classes...

Stayed tuned to the last couple seconds for a dismount failure XP