A Hot-Ass Mess

This is going to be a short post today, because I'm tired...

Some of this week was great. Another Fulbrighter and her Argentine roommate visited, and we met up with an older couple also from the States who are living in Córdoba.

And some of the week was frustrating.

I'll reiterate again what it says at the top of this page: this is not an official site and any of the experiences or opinions I express are not endorsed by the US State Department or Fulbright Program or anything. This is just me.

But I've been frustrated by the lack of support we have offered, and more than that, I'm frustrated that I so easily fall into the trap of blaming myself for things that aren't my fault. I still don't have gas in my apartment, I still struggle with my role at school, I still struggle with getting my plans and goals to come through to fruition. I still struggle with aloneness and and I still struggle with the anxiety of speaking to people in Spanish on a daily basis. I still feel confused by the different account of politics in this country, and I still feel uncertain about where it is my place to speak and where it is not.

My fellow Fulbrighter in Córdoba has had a rough time of it lately... my favorite catchphrase of his is "well that's a hot-ass mess." The more I talk amongst all of the Fulbrighters the more I realize how we have all felt like we are not provided with the tools and structure we need to succeed. That doesn't mean we haven't all sought these things out and made wonderful connections and had life-changing experiences anyways... I just question why there has to be an "anyways."

And it's not like we haven't done anything about it. Because this seems to be a structural problem, and not something we can solve by going to the administration, we brainstormed ways that we can make things better for the next Fulbrighters, and all of us are in the process of compiling guidebooks for our cities-- recommendations for housing, safety, food, classes, everything we can think of to pass on to the Fulbrighters who come to Argentina after us.

Additionally, I have become the Argentina Country Representation for the Fulbridge Program, which is a program started by a Fulbrighter from Korea several years ago who wanted to build community between the different countries and different eras of Fulbrighters-- current, past, and future:

https://fulbridge.org/

I guess the bright side of this is that we are building resilience, and that we are working together to make change possible and to begin to provide some of the tools and structure that we found lacking in our own experience for the grantees who come after us. I think that says a lot about us as people, and I am truly proud to be part of this group of 20ish grantees in Argentina.

I especially enjoyed the opportunity to talk to the Fulbrighter who visited this week, who is very similar to me in some ways (and also has a special connection to the SF Bay Area), and who I haven't seen at all since orientation in March (basically a lifetime ago).

Last night we went to the Feria de las artes (one of my favorite parts of Córdoba, as I have mentioned) and then walked up the street to Papanato, my favorite dinner place where every dish involves a creative use of potatoes. Having another person with me who also spoke Spanish and who always asked wonderful questions led to a lot of conversation, and we actually got to know one of the artesans and the waitress at the restaurant. The waitress recognizes me by now, because I literally bring every person who visits me there, but this time we actually had a conversation with her-- found out her name, how she learned English (she's lived in Austin TX, Australia, and New Zealand, and is planning to go to Ireland next!!), and that her favorite sauce on the menu is the humus de berenjena (eggplant hummus).

Earlier in the week, as I mentioned, we had dinner with an older couple from the States who are doing a trip similar to ours... but in their 60s! They were so amazing. They were from Idaho, which was hilarious (how is it that in Argentina I've met someone who lived in Tri-cities, WA and people from Idaho, of all places??). It was incredible to hear the story about how two pretty average white folks from the middle of Idaho ended up traveling the world-- first to Germany, then many other countries, before settling down in Lake Tahoe with their kids.

Now, though, they're adventuring again, and even with limited Spanish they've learned things about Córdoba that I still haven't figured out... like where to buy real Mexican tortillas and tortilla chips!

Our dinner was incredibly Argentine. We started with fiambres (meat and cheese plates) and tragos (drinks) around 9pm (after I got off work), chatted quite a bit, actually began eating dinner sometime after 10pm, and our sobremesa (literally over-the-table, the socializing period that happens after a meal) lasted until 3am!

Maybe this is silly, but it was so reassuring to hang out with this couple. I truly loved talking with them (seriously, we talked for almost 6 hours), and they reminded me that life's adventures aren't limited to our early twenties.

I feel like me and most of my friends feel a lot of pressure to have our adventures now, because once we start on "The Career Path," we'll never be free. It gives me this fear that I'll never be able to accomplish all of the things that I want to do, that I have to choose one life and that's it, that somehow at a certain point everything becomes static. And I see many people who let this narrative dictate their lives. It's easy to get caught up in it. Adventure stories are never written about people who are old enough to have grown children...

But they DO have adventures!

They can decide to go teach English in a country at the bottom of the world and learn a new language and meet new people and educate themselves about a new culture!

They can hike Machu Picchu, they can be radical and progressive, they can make positive change in the world.

I don't know, it's a comfort to me, to know that it really is true that it's never too late to follow your dreams... and it's never too late for dreams to change. I don't have to have it all figure out now, or even 10 years from now.

I've been thinking a lot about stories. The stories of my own life, the stories I want to tell, the stories that aren't told that I wish existed. I want to write vignettes about my family and my time in Idaho. I want to write literary post-apocalyptic fiction about queer traveling circus performers creating community for people who have always been on the outskirts. I want to write adventure stories where the protagonists are in their 60s and that doesn't make them any less interesting or capable of change and heroism.

I think that, regardless of how much of a hot-ass mess the past several months have been, the real power of an experience like this is getting to meet so many different people. Even when we just cross paths for a night in a hostel, or if I talk to someone once at an art gallery, or chat casually with the waitress at the restaurant I frequent... I get to hear so many stories that I never otherwise would have heard. It's one thing to look at a map of the world and see the different countries, but it is something else entirely to live in a different country and actually meet the individuals and become more aware of the sheer multitude of unique conscious being that make up our world...

Our world is a hot-ass mess. I see that now more clearly than ever.

But it's pretty incredible to learn how each person navigates their way through the mess.

I can't live amongst people and NOT want to write all of these stories... I can't live amongst people and NOT feel the beautiful power of our difference from each other as much as our sameness... I can't live amongst people and NOT want to make this world a better place for those who have constantly been pushed down.

I can't live amongst people and NOT care.