On Beef, Bars, and maybe some other things that start with B idk

Sorry I haven't been up on my blogging game, y'all. Just way too busy being a like really cool cosmo/metro politan student n doing things n other languages n stuff. Feel like i no what it means 2b a human. Feel like i'm having experiences that make me different n special n better than ne1 elze. Everythings just so MEANINGFULCORE that I just want 2 move down here and ride this chill wave (it's winter here blaaahhhhhh) the rest of my lyfe.

NAH BUT ENSERIO. What I’m actually doing right now is sitting in my bedroom, typing this blog poast on my Apple computer with a Facebook window open, while eating Goldfish. I just got done listening to American hip-hop (that’s this kind of music a lot of young people listen to nowadays, mom and dad) with my Japanese-made head-phones and later, when/if I leave my apartment today, I’ll put on my Old Navy pea coat and probably buy some pizza.

This is all just to say that, even though I’m living in Latin America, I’ve found it pretty hard to integrate so far. When you come here with a program full of other americanos, it takes some effort to not make it a party in the (kinda) USA. Which, honestly, for now it’s cool and all, since I’ve had little opportunity to meet some people to speak not English to, but eventually, ya know, I’m tryna meet some more porteños. Whatevs. Introspection complete.

ANYWAYS, I guess a few things have happened since my last post. I’ve figured out how to properly use my phone and even more, IT STAYS ON FOR A WEEK WITHOUT RECHARGING IT. I’ve also managed to use public transportation, go out to bars, and continue my daily ritual of awkward dinner conversilences for an impressive period of time.

In regards to public transportation here, it is both terribly awesome and awesomely terrible. The two options that I can feign understanding of are the Subte (what they llamar the metro system here) and the colectivos (public busses). Both are fairly ubiquitous around the city, which is great, but also not great because that’s how everyone gets around. This means that during rush hours, if you are even able to get on, you will be so closely Packt Like Sardines in a Crushed Tin Box THAT THE BREATHING OF THE PERSON NEXT TO YOU SOUNDS THIS LOUD IN YOUR EAR HOLEZ.

As for going to bars, well I do that sometimes. I’ll give you a brief recap of what I did a couple days ago to fingerpaint a picture of what maybe normally happens mmmkay? On Saturday nights we don’t get dinner from our host mamas so we went to dinner at this parilla, which is I think how you say steak house in shpaynish. Regrettably, it turns out that I couldn’t have chosen a more appropriate name for my blog: I had been in Argentina for a week and 6 days sans beef,¹ so needless to say, I was pretty ready to eat some delicious cow meat (SORRY ANNA MORRIS, BUT ALSO NOT SORRY BECAUSE TWITTER TOLD ME YOU ATE CRAB MEATS). In the interest of brevity, let’s just say I went overboard and spent 70 pesos on dinner. It’s cool though, because that bought a steak with ham, onions, peppers, and a fried egg on top; fries; wine; and the best effin ice cream ever with a Trix-flavored wafer.² The after-party of the parilla was basically we were going to hang out with these Argentine bros then go to bars/dance clubs called boliches. What this means is around ten to fifteen americanos wandering through the skreets of BA and speakin in English about theories about Inception, what we did earlier in the week, Inception, la rural, and Inception. Eventually around 3 or so?³, we ended up at a bar that was playing a good deal of música americana, including quite a few 90s power pop ballads. So clearly that meant we had to form a rotating ring of jumping/moshing people (two parts fun, one part “damn I look like a stupid American right now”). You might even say we were bar hopping HAHA SEE WHAT I DID THERE? After the bar there was the after-party and after the after-party was the after-after party aka my colectivo home. Then was the after-after-after party aka me being in bed and realizing I was getting sick and probably should have not come home at 7 in the morning. Then I went to the after-after-after-after party with Tracy Jordan.

Right-O, then. I was going to talk about this thing I went to a few days ago called La Rural but I’m realizing this is getting kind of long so I’m going to cut it short. So, you know, stay tuned cause next time you’ll get to see some pictures of cows n goats n stuff, along with me saying y'all a lot. Also, prolly pictures of whatever I do this week since I don’t have any responsibilities until next Monday.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

¹Apparently the people who grow the cows and then kill them for you so you can eat them have been feudin with the government for a few years so it’s a lot more expensive than it used to be to eat beef. This is all according to mi host madre, which also means it is reliant upon my understanding of her explanation.

² All decisions related to cereal flavoUr were made only after a general consensus of those seated at the table was reached.

³ Schedules here are the craziest. Like, take the time you would do any activity in the US (unfortunately, except wake up) and add about three hours to it and that’s what time people do it here.