Argentina on My Mind

The first five months I was in Chile I had this feeling. The feeling that if I visited Buenos Aires, Argentina's capital city, I would love it so much that it would make me regret that I hadn't chosen it as my South American home for the year. Part of it had to do with the rave reviews of the city that I got from every person who had ever visited or lived there. But the other part was just this premonition. I had the same feeling about London when I was studying in Sevilla. I just knew that I was going to love it. And, sure enough, when I visited my friend studying abroad in London I felt this unexplainable attraction to and at home-ness in the city--it was without a doubt my favorite place I had ever visited and I didn't want to leave.

But after this weekend in B.A., London has been replaced.

Immediately, from our first cab ride from the airport to the apartment we had rented, I was enchanted. I had forgotten how much beautiful architecture can affect the atmosphere or feel of a city. On every corner, beautiful European style buildings lent a classy, sophisticated, almost regal air to the city streets. I had been told by some that Buenos Aires is more "concrete jungle" than Santiago, but I didn't have that sense at all. There were parks all over the place, and the wide boulevards (their principal street, Avenida 9 de Julio, is claimed to be the widest in the world) prevented the suffocating feeling of say, New York.


Whereas I sometimes struggle to describe Chilean cuisine (as do Chileans whom I ask about this), in Buenos Aires it's all about the parilla--grilled meats. And they are insane. I'm not really a big red meat eater, but these steaks are out of this world. And the cherry on top of the culinary sundae for me is their outstanding pizza--grilled on hot stones and with a crispy thin crust, just how I like it.

Arguably my favorite part about the city, and what I think is most representative of the gulf between Santiago and B.A. is the fashion. As I have lamented in previous posts, for me, Santiago has nothing to offer as far as clothing and style goes. Not only are there very few options to buy fashionable, interesting pieces, but you don't see people walking around in covetable outfits...ever. The opposite in Buenos Aires. My friend Caren and I spent an entire day shopping around the boutiques of Palermo, and we had only just scratched the surface. And all of them filled with unique, incredibly well made, just gorgeous clothes. And I can't even start on the fashionistas that we saw on every corner, of every section of town, at every hour of the day. Add their great sense of style (both men and women) to their natural gorgeousness, and porteños are absolutely lethal in the looks department. And that's before they open their mouths and start laying on the charm with their irrestible breed of Spanish.

Obviously, language-obsessed as I have become since my arrival in Chile, I would have a strong opinion one way or another about Argentinian Spanish. I can't get enough of it. I love the way that they use vos instead of "tu." I secretly hoped that they'd have to use llegar or silla or any other ll word, the sound of which they prounounce like the s in "pleasure." And their intonation, which to me was reminiscent of the sing-songiness of Italian, made anyone and everyone's speech literally, music to my ears.

Perhaps it's been said before, but Buenos Aires, for me, combined the beauty and style of Paris, with the palpable energy of New York (just find yourself at one of their boliches, or dance clubs, at 6 AM and you'll know what I'm talking about), with a fiery Latin American flair. By the time I had been there for 4 hours, I was already telling everyone we met that I'd live in Buenos Aires one day. Unashamedly proud of their city, and in love with it as I was, they readily agreed that I should. But for now it's back in Santiago, which, as great as it is, unfortunately has suffered a great blow in my mind from it's cross-Andean neighbor.

A la Nieve

One of the things I knew I had to do while here in Chile is go skiing.  It's actually surprising that it took me until the end of the season to do it, given the fact that the Andes are staring me in the face every day, their snow-capped peaks taunting me and giving me the itch for fresh powder. Unfortunately, last Tuesday when I ventured up to Valle Nevado, there was no fresh powder to be had, but the experience of skiing in the Andes was nonetheless an unforgetable one.

Quite honestly, the snow was kind of crappy--they hadn't had a good snow fall in a couple weeks, and the spring-like sunshine was melting what they did have quickly. A good portion of the slopes were closed and there were more than a couple brown patches, where the muddy earth was starting to peak through the thin snow cover. But I could see how the skiing would be awesome with a foot or so of fresh snow. The set-up was unlike anything I had ever seen before. There weren't really trails per-se; it was more like a free for all, with skiers and snowboarders taking their pick of a path down the face of the mountain.

We had quite a laugh with the handle lifts that they used in place of chair lifts for some slopes, with my snowboarder friend getting jolted and dragged up by his arms the first couple of tries...I don't think they are made with snowboarders in mind. And just like their lower-maintenance lifts, Valle Nevado, though apparently one of the most developed ski resorts, was pretty bare-bones as far as infrastructure goes. I found this a pleasant break from the commercialized atmospheres in places like Colorado, with their mountain-top villages and ski-in-ski-out chalets dotting the slopes. We had packed a sandwich lunch and a couple cervezas and enjoyed it under the warm early spring sun on the deck of the lodge (and, no one bothered us about "picnicking" like they undoubtedly would have in the states). And I guess it's been a while since I've done a full day of skiing, because after our ride back to Santiago, down the hair-raising switchback road, I was absolutely exhausted...and fell asleep earlier than I have in I can't remember how long...8:45!

Is it just me...

Or has Chile had it's share of media attention this year, and not for happy things? First the earthquake, and now this mining tragedy/miracle. It's incredible that all thirty three of the miners are still alive, but I can't help but think of how terrible and difficult the next four months will be for them, as teams work to get them out. What was really surprising to me was that it took me until I got back to Chile, ten full days after the accident occurred, to learn of it. I didn't hear or read anything about it in U.S. media sources until the news broke that the men were alive. I couldn't be happier that the story took the miraculous and positive turn that it did, but I wish that the U.S. had showed some interest even when the story wasn't so sensational.

Just twelve little hours by plane...

After three relaxing weeks in the states, I am back in Santiago and about to start my second semester of teaching. While at home I was, not surprisingly, constantly reminded of the differences between the U.S. and Chile. Of course, there are tons of ways that living in Chile is different than living in the U.S., but here are a couple of the things that, perhaps oddly, stood out most to me:

Points on the board for the U.S:

• It was nice to be reintroduced to the customer service culture. To approach a salesperson or cashier and have them drop immediately whatever he was doing (since, after all, there was a live, paying customer standing right in front of him, duh) and attend to my needs, was a wonderful feeling. Chilean management should take a page out of the U.S.'s book and train their employees in this...business would benefit from it. 
• Nordstrom. Urban Chic. J.Crew. South Moon Under. Old Navy. Forever 21. And the list goes on. I have a new goal: find some way around whatever astronomical duties there must be to get decent clothes into Chile, and go into the import business. After 5 months of being either a) less than impressed with the fashions or b) dismayed by the prices of what was actually cute, I was like a kid in a candy store.

And a couple things that made me say "maldita oosah!" (Damn you, USA!)

• Besides rent, I feel like everyday items cost relatively the same in Chile as in the states. I realized on this trip home that I had forgotten one key category: transportation. Never again will I whine about paying for a cab or curse having to recharge my Bip card for the Santiago metro. Sitting in cabs in DC, watching the meter leap up, what seemed like every two seconds, it was all I could do not to ask the cabbie if he had rigged it. And, next to the DC metro's charge-by-distance system, Santiago's flat rate of 580 pesos (about $1.10) is a godsend. Plus, Santiago's metro is faster, more reliable, and cleaner. Sorry DC. 
• This is an obvious one, but, no Spanish! After months of serious mental effort, trying to force my brain to instinctively say "gracias" instead of thank you, and "disculpa" instead of pardon me or I'm sorry, now I was having to do the opposite. I definitely got a few weird looks from cashiers and people I accidentally bumped into when they heard a pale, red-head blurting out Spanish words. Besides the practical, there are words and phrases I've picked up in the past month that I just love using. Honestly, I don't think I'll ever be able to drop them. In general, living bilingually (is that a word?) is just a lot more interesting than operating in only one language. I missed it a lot.

And things that were, in the words of one very impartial and diplomatic professor of mine, "not better or worse, just different:"

• Unsolicited attention--in the form of staring, muttered com(pli)ments, and, only rarely, catcalls--from male strangers. On the one hand,  I'm inclined to think this is offensive. Though, in honesty, it's rarely actually offensive. More like sometimes annoying, and often a little off-putting. But, and independent women of the world don't scorn me, back in the states I found myself thinking, "Wow, I must not be looking too good today." Silly, I know,  but trust me, more than a couple girls I have talked to here agree.
• Better produce vs. better packaged food. In Chile, you have two choices: buy whole foods, like fresh (phenomenal) produce, meats, etc, and prepare it yourself, or buy packaged crap that's terrible for you. Grocery shopping back home, I was reminded of how much variety we have in the states when it comes to prepared foods. And, how good the quality of some of them are. I think that the food industry in the U.S. is doing a really good job of creating healthy, tasty options in packaged food, although, of course, these items are going to hurt your wallet a little more than Lays and Oreos. I don't know what I'd rather have really, Chile's amazing fruits and vegetables, or the United States endless supply of increasingly wholesome and healthful ready-to-eat options.