Tag Archives: Latin America

My Kind of Town

Descanso

Last week I had a break after completing our midterms. It felt like a spring break because in my mind I’m in the mode of spring. But in Buenos Aires in May, the winds are picking up leaves, rains have come, and autumn is bringing colder air. On Facebook, I see tulips blooming at Penn State and my friends finishing up their finals, while I just completed midterms! I still do not know when my local university course’s final exam will be; they say sometime in the first half of July.

Nevertheless, I cannot believe I am already halfway through my semester abroad! I am so happy I choose to come to South America, although adjusting to the opposite of seasons still confuses me and I will return to the US in late summer. Studying in Buenos Aires, I have been able to really get to know one city, one culture. I feel that even after being in this city for five months, there will be things I still wish to see. Every week, there is something new that I plan to visit or do: whether it be another fair of artisans, a bar popular with the locals, or a tango show.

Because it is impossible to exhaust the long list of things to do in BA, I love staying here every weekend and am excited to return when I do travel elsewhere in the country. So when my mom decided to visit me over my break, I had a huge list of things to show her in this city. For the week we were here, we went all over the city. No one in her hotel spoke English, and most restaurants don’t speak English. Some offer menus in English with funny translations. For example, once I saw a menu that translated jamón (ham) as jam. For me, I know Spanish speakers pronounce the letter j like the letter h in English, so jam sounds like ham. But to an English speaker, like my mom, jam is something very different from ham. So in this context, I was able to show my mom the fruits of all my years studying Spanish.

My mom and I at a restaurant.

Traveling around the city, my mom experienced the adventure of the colectivo, the bus here in BA. We successfully hailed buses from unmarked bus stops and arrived safely at our destinations. We went to a lot of museums: the MALBA, Bellas Artes, Museo Bicentenario, Museo Etnológico, and Evita. Many museums do not have English translations, and I was able to translate the descriptions and add what I had learned from my history class about particular periods in Argentine history.

Visit to Juan B. Ambrosetti Museo Etnológico

A work by Eugenio Cuttica, an Argentine artist in Museo Bellas Artes.

We had a wonderful time. My mom saw my home stay and my favorite tea shop, and we ate Argentine food, like a fugazzeta (a thick crust pizza with cheese and onions), and drank Malbec wine. My host family here also went out to dinner with my mom, my house mate, my house mate’s family, and myself. Although the language barrier sometimes seemed overwhelming, it was very special to share a delicious meal together and enjoy everyone’s company.

I loved sharing this wonderful city with my mother. The more time I spend here, the more grateful I am that I made the decision to study here in this city, in South America. I always thought I would study abroad in Spain, but as advisers talked to me about choosing a place, the more I became disenchanted with going there. Through this experience, I really wanted to become familiar with a particular culture and immerse myself in Spanish. Buenos Aires has been the perfect place to accomplish both of these goals. I still want to go to Spain in the future but am so happy that I chose to study abroad in Argentina.

Exploring new cities

This weekend, I am going to Bariloche with one of my classes. It is an anthropology course about Patagonia. So we have learned about the first conquerors and explorers’ perspectives of Patagonia, Argentine explorers and scientists’ ideas about the region, along with current perceptions of Patagonia, indigenous peoples and their cultures. Through this trip, we get to travel there and see what we have learned firsthand. In Bariloche, we will see the touristy parts like Nahuel Huapi National Park, as well as the more subtle political and social issues within the city. For example, we will travel to a poorer neighborhood of the city and visit a school in this neighborhood.

At the end of the month, I am traveling to the northwest of Argentina to Salta. I am excited for this trip because this region, unlike the rest of Argentina, was once ruled by the Incans and still retains these Incan cultural influences. But even on this trip, I will continue to practice my Spanish and have the opportunity to get to know another part of Argentine culture.

Location: Recoleta, Buenos Aires, Argentina

So, are you fluent yet?

An Interminable Progress

One of my pet peeves is when I talk to my friends at home and they ask me, “So are you fluent yet?” Considering I came to Argentina to improve my Spanish and practice it living day to day in a foreign country, this is a valid question. After being here for about two months, my Spanish vocabulary and my ability to speak has improved immensely. However, it is very hard to say yes, I am fluent in a second language. I am still learning constantly, so I would say that I am certainly proficient in Spanish. But saying I am fluent makes me feel that I am done learning Spanish, that I am satisfied with my ability to communicate in a second language. I always try to improve my accent, but I am resigned that this is very hard to do. Even people whose first language is not English who have lived in the US for decades often still have accents. Even with this being said, I do not think I will ever be satisfied with my fluency in Spanish. Even in English, I love reading and learning new words to enrich my vocabulary. Of course, I would say I am fluent in English. But the never ending process of learning a second language – learning new vocabulary, learning the context of when words and expressions are used- makes it harder for me to say yes, I am fluent in Spanish.

I need something that glues things together a.k.a glue

For example, the other day I needed glue or tape to finish a poster project about fracking in Argentina for my Spanish class. As I was walking to the store to buy glue, I realized I couldn’t remember the word for glue in Spanish. This presented a problem because in the school supplies stores here, the worker asks what you need and they get it for you. I couldn’t just look around for glue and pay without speaking. However, I remembered the verb to glue. So I asked the worker in the store for something that I could use to glue paper to a poster. She understood and asked if I wanted liquid form or the stick. Of course, this was not the most concise way for me to buy glue, but I got what I needed and finished my project. But now, I now the word for glue and won’t forget it anytime soon. This kind of learning is a daily occurrence.

Living in a foreign country that speaks your second language is the most incredible learning experience. All of my courses here are in Spanish. Whether I’m in my Argentine poetry class or my Patagonia anthropology class, I’m constantly learning new words. When I take the bus through the city, advertisements and store signs flash by me, teaching me new words and expressions. When summer was ending here, every store had signs of “rebajas, rebajas!”, “sale, sale!”. I learn new social and political terms when I pass by signs campaigning for candidates. In the Plaza de Mayo, there are always political demonstrations or political graffiti and posters across from the Casa Rosada, the equivalent of the White House.

The poster hung in the Plaza de Mayo says Truth…? Memory…? Justice…? Inclusion…?: Lies from those governing!
We want to believe in their commitment to memory, justice, and truth.

Sail or candle?

Although I read La Canción de la Pirata (The Song of the Pirate) in my Spanish literature class, I have never had a sailing unit in any Spanish class at Penn State. When I first told my host family I was going sailing, I remembered the word for sail, but my host family didn’t understand me at first. I second-guessed my memory of the word for sail because it also means candle. But after going sailing, I have a concrete experience of sailing, had conversations with our Spanish speaking captain, and learned lots of new words related to sailing and the river: words like sailing, stern, and words for different types of sailboats.

Sailing with my friends on the Río de la Plata

Oh, I can read a menu in Spanish… I think

We also had alfajores on our sailing trip. Alfajores are two cookies that have dulce de leche in between them, and the whole thing is dipped in chocolate. A lot of Argentine dishes, like in any language, have their own specific name. So, it has surprised me how difficult reading menus or reading labels in the market has been. For example, lomo is a word I commonly see on signs near large cuts of meat at delis. I am normally a vegetarian at home, so not knowing what type of meat my sandwich has freaks me out. I think, “Oh, is lomo rabbit? Deer? What could this possibly be?” Turns out lomo is just a cut of meat. Argentines are very serious about meat, so normally signs and menus always include the cut of meat, no matter whether it is a to-go sandwich shop or a nice French restaurant. I also saw a quiche that was labelled “puerro” in the market. This also freaked me out because puerro sounds very similar to perro, meaning dog. However, I found out puerro means leek, so I didn’t need to worry that the market offered dog quiche.

My favorite bakery: In the name of dessert!

An alfajor

I have even learned a lot of words for vegetables, fruits and herbs here: eggplant, basil, arugula, parsley, grapefruit. When I go to my favorite bakery, En el Nombre de Postre, I learn new words for spices like cinnamon or the phrase for whole-grain bread.

Another language challenge is the ice cream parlor. You would think this would be simple, but if a foreigner came to an ice cream store in the US, there are plenty of names that don’t really describe what the ice cream actually is. For example, what the hell does moose tracks actually mean? There are many ice creams like this in Spanish too. I have been intrigued by one flavor named Roger. Sometimes I feel silly asking what an ice cream is like, so I remind myself that there are a lot of nonsensical names for ice creams in English too. I ask my friend who owns the store what the mysterious Roger ice cream is like, and he says that it is like the candy Ferrero-Rocher. So I tried it, and it was amazing!

So, all in all, I work on my Spanish constantly outside of the classroom. A lot of it depends on my own effort to learn. I can either point and gawk, or I can exercise my ability to ask Argentines what something means or get my point across without knowing the exact word that I want to use. So sometimes, it seems so much easier to point instead of say, “what is this like?”, “what is this made out of?”. So even though sometimes I feel like a complete idiot asking silly questions, I am an idiot that is learning new things every single day in the city, unlike any experience in a contained classroom at Penn State.

Location: Paraná 1205 Buenos Aires, Argentina

Haiti

Last weekend I got to do something that I did not think I would do before coming to the Dominican Republic, and that is going to Haiti! We had a free weekend, and a bunch of other American students and I were able to find a tour company that did weekend trips to Haiti. It was a bit expensive, but well worth the experience.

Drive to the Border

We met just outside our university on Friday morning at 5AM. After cramming into a van, we headed towards the border. On Fridays and Mondays at this particular border crossing, it is completely open. This is because there is a market between buyers and sellers from both the DR and Haiti. My passport got four stamps that weekend: my first was to leave the DR, my second to enter Haiti. On Sunday, I got the same stamps, but for leaving Haiti and entering the DR. We were at the border for probably over an hour, and for most of that time the flow of people crossing the border did not slow down. Pictured below is a scene of the people crossing the border, taken from the immigration office. It’s a bit of a distance away but you may be able to see that nearly every person is carrying or towing something with them in hopes of selling it.

The Citadelle

After the border, we were on our way to the Citadelle, the largest fortress in the Americas. After driving up what seemed like a hundred switchbacks, we were at a spot where we could not drive any further. We walked the rest of the distance up to the fortress. It was not more than a 30 minute walk from where we stopped driving. Once at the fortress, we were directed around by a local guide. The fortress was built to protect Haiti against an attack from the French. The Citadelle was threatened more so by earthquakes than the French, as a French attack never came. However, the fortress remains an icon of Haiti and is featured on the country’s currency. It is situated on top of a mountain, and really makes you wonder how each stone, cannon, and the endless amounts of daily supplies were carried up there. Here is a picture shot from the base of the wall.

Here is another picture at the Citadelle of the hundreds if not thousands of cannonballs stored there.

The Citadelle itself was very impressive, but also very much so because of the views of the mountains that you could see from it. Here I am below, on the roof of the Citadelle, pictured with this beautiful ridge that I could not leave without taking a picture with.

Sans-Souci Palace

The second part of the day was spent at the Sans-Souci Palace, which was near by the Citadelle. It housed Henri Christophe, the man responsible for building the Citadelle. Here are a couple pictures of the palace.

To be honest, this palace reminded me a lot of Roman ruins, probably because of their shared use of arches. Although I was very tired and sweaty at the end of the day, I had a fantastic time. I was able to visit two UNESCO World Heritage Sites in one day. If that does not count as a successful travel, I don’t know what does.

The rest of the weekend consisted of going to the beach, out to a discoteca in Cap-Haitien, and a lot of driving. I don’t have any pictures of the city itself. It was very difficult to get clear pictures through tinted glass on a bumpy road, so I decided to kick back and just observe. I was practically mesmerized as we were driving through the city. People-watching is one of my favorite things to do while traveling somewhere new. Cap-Haitien was a bustling city, which actually reminded me of the DR in some ways. I saw a countless number of people selling things in the street. The buildings were painted with very brightly colors and built from concrete. The roads were quite bumpy at times but not torturous to drive through. Motorcycles were fearless when it came to weaving in and out of traffic. Our last stop in Haiti before returning to the DR was to the statues of the fore fathers of Haiti.

This tour made me realize how connected each country in the Americas is. I often thought of the Dominican Republic and Haiti as faraway lands, but we are much more connected than we think we are. The US, along with Haiti, the Dominican Republic and countless other nations has fought for their independence from European settlers. It was very cool and eye opening to see this connection in a country that I previously had very little interest in.

Photo of the Week

There is a very popular festival all throughout Latin America taking place called Carnaval, I will explain more in my next post, but here is a picture to act as a bit of a teaser. Masks are a huge part of Carnaval, and as you can see a lot of work goes into making them, even the small ones sold in flea markets. I picked this up at a flea market down the street for less than $5. It is entirely made of paper Papier-mâché, and elaborately painted. That’s all I will say for now, see you next time!

Location: The Citadelle, Haiti

All the world is a stage

First impressions

I arrived in Buenos Aires almost a week ago and am very excited to share some of my first impressions with you! Coming from State College- a place where drivers will ensure that distracted, unaware students on cell phones may cross the street safely- I feel bombarded by all the people, aggressive taxis and buses, and the necessity to look both ways.

The street I walk on everyday to get to IES or to meet with friends

The street outside of my homestay.

While I try to maneuver through the streets, I am awed by the strange mix of French architecture, palm trees, graffiti, and people chatting in cafes.

At home, my host family is very accommodating and welcoming. They are very kind when I ask them to repeat something or if I don’t understand the Spanish. I am very grateful for their patience and am getting to know them better.

Playing my part

Expressing myself with my host family or in a cafe, I still feel frustrated with my fluency. I do not know the words that I want to express or I make a mistake in conjugation. At school with the other American students, we all speak English and I feel relieved that I can express myself without such difficulty. I can make friends and introduce myself without a language barrier. In this foreign place, all of us cling to what we have in common. Penn State students are excited to meet each other and talk about THON. Whenever we hear another American, we reach out to them, introduce ourselves, and connect with some small part of ourselves.

As we settle into our new environment away from home, we carefully observe what is “normal” in Buenos Aires. Although we still jump at the sight of anything close to home, we are trying to learn more about the culture of our temporary home. It’s normal to walk your dog at 11 o’clock at night; you have to beg for the check after you’re finished eating; you don’t go out until midnight. My peers and I try to emulate these norms and try to adapt to Argentine culture. However, we clearly stick out speaking English, and our Spanish language mistakes further identify us as foreigners. When this occurs, the waiter may start pointing at the menu or speaking English. So inevitably, our own personas and our language skills act as antagonists to this process. As I spend more time in Buenos Aires and my Spanish improves, I hope to find a more positive, rewarding balance between seeking out my own culture and adapting to a new one.

Location: Recoleta, Buenos Aires

Carambas!

No comprendo…

I was surprised that Spanish-speaking people actually say this phrase that Americans sometimes use. Beyond this, I have learned that no Spanish class could have prepared me for only conversing in Spanish during my trip to Colombia. My first overwhelming language experience was at a party when I first arrived. Thinking they were talking about kittens, I answered a question, but apparently they were asking about two little girls. Gratefully, my hosts enforce Spanish so I can improve, but they also speak English in case I have no idea what they are talking about. We’ll see if this remains true of my hosts in Argentina. But nevertheless, I feel that I am becoming more comfortable surrounded by Spanish. My conjugation of verbs is still rusty but is improving. And words long forgotten (like cucumber) are coming back to me.

Despite my second grade Spanish, the language and its cultural idiosyncrasies enrich my own experience of Bogotá. I was offered a bocadillo. My mind scrambled to translate. Boca? Mouth? What? But it turned out to be a common Colombian dessert of a slice of candied guava with a slice of local cheese on top. Sounds horrible, but in all honesty, I’d give up ice cream forever and replace it with this dessert.

The opposite of expectations

Walking through a Spanish Franciscan church that softens the cries of street vendors, I have arrived in an entirely new place. Compared to my austere Protestant church at home, I am awed by the ornate decoration- silver, gold, carved wood- of the church. I steps echo and I try not to disturb the Colombians kneeling and praying at midday. Religion permeates this country’s culture, but not as I expected. Many people struggle with Catholicism despite its seemingly pervasive nature in South America.

Outside of the churches, the streets are lined with military personnel. Dressed in camouflage and carrying huge guns, their presence makes me want to shriek and run. But the more I experience the city, I question what is this impending threat. As it turns out, Colombia experienced a bombing about a decade ago, and this event initiated the enormous increase in security. It seems radical at first, but is the increased security at my high school in response to Newtown just as ridiculous? What is so different between soldiers guarding Colombian schools and American schools continually being locked down from the outside world? Whether it be ridiculous, radical or rational, our reaction to violence is to arm and secure schools, movie theaters, and airports.

Soldiers by the Plaza de Bolívar

So far, I am loving this experience and cannot wait to learn more. ¡Hasta luego!

Location: Calle 73 Bogotá Colombia

¡Bienvenido a la República Dominicana!

¡Hola!

Thank you taking the time to read this blog. My name is Kyle Gerardi and I will be studying in the Dominican Republic for the next few months. I am a junior business major with a possible Spanish minor. If you are reading because you are interested in studying abroad, I hope to give you good insight and an honest viewpoint about my experiences. If you are a friend or family member, I hope you will enjoy the ride as much as I will. If I do not explain something well, please do not hesitate to comment below, and I will try my best to get back to you.

I have been out of the country many times before, including a four month trip to Switzerland a few years ago and a seven week trip to Scandinavia last summer. I have kept a journal on each of my trips, and will do the same for this one. I always write an entry before I arrive, as well as an entry on my flight back home. My first post usually contains what I am feeling, or what I am nervous about. I also include expectations about where I am going and what I will experience. It sounds a bit corny, but the best part about the writing that I do is looking back on it months or years later. It is quite literally a window to your own past and you can see exactly how you used to think. Writing is just as good if not better for documenting the specific details of a trip as photos. However, looking at pictures can ignite memories that may have been forgotten.

One would think that pre-departure nerves decrease with each trip, but the exact opposite seemed to happen this time. This is my first trip where I am expected to use Spanish on a daily basis. Spanish is my second language, and I have only studied it for two years. I am very excited about this opportunity because I have many friends at Penn State who can speak more than one language. I always thought it was fascinating, and am finally able to try it out for myself.

Thanks again for taking the time to read this! See you soon!

Location: Santiago, Dominican Republic

Are you REALLY an American?

I have never felt as Hispanic as I feel in Brazil. This might come off as a bit strange, but it is true. Back at home I only speak the Spanish language with my family. Most of my friends are not Hispanic and therefore I almost never embrace my Hispanic side. Here in Brazil, I speak Spanish with a lot of students who come from countries such as Mexico, Spain, Costa Rica, Nicaragua and Columbia.

What makes me feel like my Hispanic roots have flourished more is not only speaking the language, but the Brazilian culture itself. Every time I tell people I am an American, I get bombarded by phrases such as “You look Brazilian!”, “Where are you REALLY from?”, “You have Latin American influence right?”,”Do you speak Spanish?”, “I don’t believe you” and so on. At that point I explain my Hispanic roots and people feel more comfortable simply calling me Honduran or Salvadoran (representing the countries where my parents are from), instead of calling me an American. There are many notions and images of what a “typical” American should look like. I can’t complain though. It saves me from being called a gringa. Besides what people perceive me as, the Brazilian culture is a lot closer to my family life than the typical American culture. Latin beats in music, the love to dance, close-knit families and very embracing people is what come to mind when I think of my own family’s culture and it is what I get here so I feel like I finally have thoroughly explored my Hispanic roots. I feel quite happy with this fact. It’s a world that’s different yet similar to me and I’m glad to be experiencing it.

My mother told me my face looked like it was glowing today. I told her that that is what happens when you are indescribably happy and content with life.

Location: Fundacao Getulio Vargas, Sao Paulo, Brazil

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