Category Archives: Latin America

Location: Recoleta, Buenos Aires, Argentina

My Kind of Town

 

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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

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.

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

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!

My favorite bakery: In the name of dessert!

An alfajor

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

Una Locura: the Argentine Classroom

Earlier in the semester, I decided to take a course at one of the local universities in Buenos Aires. I decided to take a class at the Pontifica Universidad Católica de Argentina (la UCA) because they offered courses in history.  La UCA is a private university in Buenos Aires, as opposed to the University of Buenos Aires, which is free to Argentines, as well as foreigners. I didn’t know what to expect on registration day for international students, and certainly nothing could have prepared me for what ensued.

When I arrived, I was given a course catalogue with course descriptions. For a while, I looked through the book and found a few courses that interested me. Then I went to an area where the schedule of courses was posted on paper. Squeezing past other international students, I tried to squint at the times and see which courses fit in with the rest of my schedule. Eventually, I found a course, Argentine History of the Twentieth Century, that fit in my schedule, wrote it down on paper, and signed. I then handed in my registration form to be placed in a manila envelope and thought, well, I hope there is a spot in the class. After this experience, I vowed never to complain about scheduling online and receiving immediate confirmation at Penn State.

When I arrived to my first day of class, I was nervous and hoped my registration had gone through. My stomach turned and I worried what expectations the teacher would have. While we waited, I made an Argentine gesture of being scared: palm facing upward, opening and closing my fingers. The professor finally arrived a half hour late and class began. She was very curious about all of the foreigners in my class and had all of us introduce ourselves. Her welcoming spirit and her clear speaking calmed my nerves about the class.

Two professors teach the class, and both always try to include comparisons with the US. My first professor is very passionate, loves jokes and always will start a hearty debate during class. Sometimes, these debates become a little overwhelming with Argentine students raising their voices to explain their opinions, but it is a great way to challenge my Spanish skills. This year is an election year in Argentina, so everyone is buzzing about politics: Macri, Massa, PRO divided, Peronists also divided. Everyone  in the class expresses their opinions about the death of Nissman, the lawyer investigating the 1994 bombing of a synagogue and found dead in his bathroom.During these conversations, I am very pleased when I understand references to or jokes about Argentine politics.

After a month of going to the class, the subject is absolutely fascinating. As my professor said the first day of class, Argentine history fascinates foreigners but is painful for Argentines. This has proved true. I do not know that much about Argentine history, so for me everything in the course is new and exciting. Sometimes being unfamiliar with the content of the course makes it more difficult, but it’s all part of the challenge of taking a course at the local university. But for the Argentines in the class, learning about the development of their country makes them question why their country is in the situation it is today.

Some of them seem either ambivalent or extremely disappointed with politics. Many say they want to go to the States because they believe America has no significant problems. One student carried a bag with an American flag design on it, and my professor questioned it and asked if the students had any sense of national identity or pride. The students rolled their eyes.  Granted, my teacher’s reaction is a little exaggerated; plenty of Americans wear clothes with British flags too, but the conversation is indicative of the frustration of some Argentines. The students in la UCA are mainly from the upper middle or upper class families. They can afford to pay for higher education when it is offered for free by the state, so I assume their families are fairly successful.  So considering their situation, it surprises me that they feel so disenchanted with their country.

However, I do not mean to say that students here are entirely disenchanted. My house mate goes to the public University of Buenos Aires, and her classes are constantly interrupted by organizations trying to promote social and political issues. But to me it is fascinating to compare these two experiences in very different universities of Buenos Aires.

 

 


Location: Av. Alicia Moreau de Justo 1300 Buenos Aires, Argentina

Visitors

A few weeks ago I had two different friends visiting me. You usually don’t think of having visitors from home when you study abroad. But it really is a great opportunity, especially in a place like the Dominican Republic. When most people think of the Dominican Republic, they think of going to the beach. The DR is much, much deeper than that, and I truly think it’s a shame that people rarely see any other parts of the country. My first visitor had the same mindset as I do, and he proved this to me when he told me about how he wanted his vacation to go. He told me “get me as far away from Punta Cana as you can. I want to see how real Dominicans live”. The fact that Santiago and Punta Cana are practically on the other side of the country did not make this feat too difficult. We rented an apartment in the city of Santiago, and for 5 short days, I gave him a taste of my life here. If we forget what I just recently said about the beach, a vacation to the DR would still be incomplete without one. Here my friend Greg and I are pictured at Playa Sosúa right after lunch.IMG_0225

The other days that my friend had here were spent in the city of Santiago. Pictured below is my friend walking up to the famous monument in the center of the city.

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Although there are some very nice restaurants around the city, Greg insisted that we eat like locals. So I took him to the places that suited his request. Although we were very out of place, I was able to use my Spanish to get some great meals. Dominicans are also not shy when it comes to portion sizes. They definitely give the US a run for our money. I have gotten used to the portion sizes by this point, but Greg had trouble finishing his piles of rice a few times.

I had another opportunity to see a friend from the US, but this one has Dominican roots. I met up with Pavel as he was passing through Santiago. We headed to his uncles house in Santo Domingo for a night, where I met his aunt as well as three of his cousins. I had never spoken Spanish with Pavel before this trip because I had never spoken Spanish at all before this trip. However, I needed to speak Spanish with him when I was around his family. This was a really weird experience for me, because I never imagined that I would speak anything with Pavel besides English. However, this experience broke down a little mental block that I had. If I know that someone speaks English, it becomes hard for me to speak Spanish with them. However, there are situations where I need to speak Spanish with someone because someone else involved in the interaction doesn’t speak English. The next day, Pavel and I headed to Juan Dolio, a coastal town west of Santo Domingo. We had a great day at the beach, and somehow were only able to snap one picture.

Juan Dolio

I’m really glad that I got to have a taste of home through the visit of my two friends. It was very cool to experience the best that the DR has to offer.

Photo Of The Week

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This past weekend I went to Laguna Dudú. There were cliffs that you could jump off of into the Lagoon. Here is a picture of people right after jumping. It was quite high, as you may be able to see how far I am from where the picture is taken. See you next time!


Location: Santiago, DR

What are men compared to rocks and mountains?

View of Mendoza from Terrraza Jardín del Mirador

View of Mendoza from Terraza Jardín del Mirador

 

There were holidays this week, so we had a four day weekend to have an awesome trip in Argentina.  So, my friends and I took a bus to Mendoza for the long weekend. Mendoza is about 15 hours west of Buenos Aires along the Chilean border- I know 15 hours by bus sounds horrible. I bought my bus ticket expecting I would never buy one again after 30 hours of busing. But the buses in Argentina are not like Greyhounds in the US.

I have taken Greyhound home to Philadelphia from State College. We had to stop in Harrisburg and the trip ended up being about six hours in a gross Greyhound bus. But here for long trips, you can purchase a “cama” seat on a bus, which is basically a really wide seat that reclines and has a foot rest to elevate your feet. They give you champagne, a not so great dinner, and a decent breakfast, so what’s there to complain about? An overnight bus trip to the opposite end of Argentina is actually a pretty comfortable trip.

The only tricky part about buses here is that they don’t post the platform from where the bus will depart until about ten minutes before departure or not at all. So I was a little worried when I arrived at the Retiro bus station and didn’t know where my bus would be. But as I have mentioned in my last blog, patience is always required with transportation in Argentina or anywhere in the world.

Once we arrived, we explored the city. It is more of a small town compared to Buenos Aires, and we appreciated the quiet streets and clean, fresh air. The accent in Mendoza is also more familiar than in Buenos Aires. The “sh” sound of the “ll” and “y” of Buenos Aires was not as common and closer to the castellano that I have learned in school. My friends and I rented the second floor of a house from a family in Mendoza. The family was very nice and accommodating and we loved the cozy atmosphere within the house.

One of the coolest things about Mendoza is that it actually has a semi-arid climate, practically desert. Yet Mendoza is famous for its wine production, and the province is lush with verdure. All throughout the city, there are irrigation ducts and rivers of water flowing from the mountains to provide water for the province. So not only do these mountains dominate the landscape, but they provide the sustenance for Mendoza’s people and its economy.

After exploring the streets and plazas for a while, we went to a museum exhibiting regional art that was awesome. It was amazing to see artistic depictions of landscapes that were clearly from the Mendoza province. So many paintings included the Andes looming over the landscapes of vineyards and gardens.

On Sunday, I went horseback riding outside of Mendoza, close to Luján. I have never ridden a horse before, so I was a little frightened by the experience. I was especially scared when I found out we would be scaling a few smaller mountains on horseback to get a better view of the Andes. But I trusted my horse and had a spectacular view of the landscapes in Mendoza.

View of the Andes on horseback

My final excursion in Mendoza was a bike tour through wine country in the province. We rented bikes from a family owned business, Mr. Hugo’s, and got a map of the different wineries around Maipú. Sounds like a bad idea to have wine tastings and then bike to the next winery, but it was great! We also stopped at an olive farm, where we tried artisan olive oils, tapenade, jams, chocolates, and liquors. Through the entire bike tour, the street was lined with shady trees and surrounded by acres and acres of grape fields. In Mendoza, they grow Malbec grapes to make Malbec wine, which I tried on the wine tastings. The day was fantastic, and we rushed back to the bus station to catch our bus back home to BA.

Ready for the wine tour?

Today, we arrived after our long journey, and I never thought I’d be so happy to see Retiro Bus Station. I came home to my home stay, and my host dad was excited to hear about all of our adventures in Mendoza, where he used to live. Mendoza was such a beautiful place and I had an awesome weekend there beneath the Andean mountains. Like Jane Austen wrote, “what are men compared to rocks and mountains?” After my trip to Mendoza, I wonder what are men compared to rocks and mountains AND wine?

 


Location: Mendoza, Argentina

Carnaval

In this post I will write about a Dominican tradition that actually spans many more countries, including the US. It is carnaval!

You may have heard of Mardi Gras in the US, but here in the DR we call it carnaval. Carnaval is a festival that takes place every Sunday during the entire month of February in the Dominican Republic. Every Sunday in a number of different cities across the country, people dress up in costumes that resemble the devil, and dance in the streets. It seems odd that such a catholic country would celebrate the devil, but they are actually doing the exact opposite. This whole festival is dedicated to making fun of the devil. It is for this reason that the costumes and decorations are way over the top, and people can be very “sinful” without fear of consequences. The DR tends to be very conservative, so carnaval is a way for people to let loose from social norms and either show who they really are or just go wild without judgement. There were people that simply dyed their hair crazy colors, all the way to cross dressers that were a bit more convincing than I would like to admit. I was able to experience carnaval in two different cities. First in La Vega, and then in Santiago, where I am currently living and studying. Each region of the country has their own characters and versions of the devil, but for this post I’ll just focus on the two that I witnessed.

La Vega

In La Vega, the masks that dancers wore were very scary looking. They had multiple horns sticking out of their faces and also had very sharp teeth. To get a better understanding of this, I have a picture below.

Carnaval La Vega

Here I am pictured with a street dancer as well as fellow Big 10 student Emily King (IU). As you can see in the background, there are people hanging out on the roofs of houses nearby, and many more in the street behind us. There are so many people in fact, that sidewalk space is limited. Dancers carry vejigas, or inflated cow bladders. They hit people on the behind who are not paying attention as well as those standing in the streets. Some of the vejiga hits we received were not too bad, but some hits actually hurt a bit so it’s best to avoid them all together if you can. The stores and businesses along the loop where carnaval takes place were all open and bustling. As many things as possible were themed along with the devil theme of carnaval. I even found a local store where a man was selling drinks called the “Red Devil”. I’m not sure exactly what was in it, but I ended up going back for another because it was so good. I’ve heard that La Vega has one of the most boisterous carnaval celebrations in the entire country, so I’m glad that I was able to experience it.

Santiago

The other city where I experienced carnaval in was where I am currently living, in Santiago. The costumes here have a more elongated nose as well as longer horns. The overall design of the mask is simpler, but their clothes are just as elaborate. My neighbor from across the street was a dancer in this year’s carnaval, so I was able to get a good shot of him putting on his mask.

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As you can see he is holding a whip in his left hand. The dancers in Santiago’s carnaval are famous for their whips. As they dance down the street, they crack their whips all while dancing and not knocking their masks over. It’s quite an impressing sight to witness. My neighbor was practicing with his whip before heading down to the center of the city, so I was lucky enough to get a video of him practicing. Here it is below.

Lechone Whip Practice

Carnaval is one of the craziest and most famous street festivals in the world, and I’m glad I got to experience it twice.

Photo of the Week

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Here is one of the many examples of the awesome nature of the Dominican Republic. Last weekend, we went to the peninsula of Samaná. On the way there, we stopped at a roadside cave. The cool thing about this cave is that it was not known about until the highway was constructed. Later in the weekend, we visited other caves further down the peninsula. That’s it for now, see you soon!

 


Location: La Vega, Dominican Republic

Get ready, get set, go!

State College has not prepared me for Buenos Aires.

In that small college town, trust is ubiquitous. No one checks your ticket to get into the movies. I leave my backpack and my computer on the tables of the dining halls or in a coffee shop downtown without a problem. I never keep my backpack in the front of me in case of pick pocketers. So of course, I have a lot of adjusting to do in a big city like Buenos Aires.

But the cultural change that I have the most trouble with so far is the cultural differences in transportation.

At Penn State, students, wearing headphones and looking at their phones, cross the steret without worrying about traffic. The drivers carefully stop and wait until the students cross. I always wear headphones and listen to music when I walk to class without any problems. I also ride my bicycle with headphones on during rush hour. Of course, sometimes I have to quickly stop to avoid a student, but it never is dangerous to ride by bike with headphones.

Of course, I take more care crossing the street in BA. I try to ignore a million distractions- the stores, the people, the smells, the sounds- to maintain my awareness of the traffic. I still do not know if the right of way for pedestrians exists here. Perhaps, I have only met particularly agressive drivers. For example, I have crossed the street, and the buses trying to turn onto the street I am crossing honk at me and accelerate towards me. It also seems strange to me how the lights turn from red, to yellow, to green here. There is no direct warning that the light is about to turn green in the US. When the bus drivers see this warning, they accelerate through the intersection and do not bother to wait for the light to turn green. This progression of lights makes me think of playing Mario Kart. I expect the bus drivers to get a boost for accelerating during the yellow light. Now I understand why IES prohibits any students driving or riding bikes in the street.

Even more surprising than drivers’ increased aggression is the lack of regularity and order in public transit. In State College, there is a bus stop right outside my dorm. There also is an App where I can see the location of the bus. I do not have to wait at the bus stop when it’s freezing. I can go out when I know the bus is very close. When the bus approaches the stop, I do not need to hail it down as I do in Argentina. I can also see if the bus is really far away, and if I do not want to wait, I can just walk. Of course, it’s not perfect, but yet again this experience has not prepared me for Buenos Aires.

There is also an App here, BA Como Llego (BA How I Arrive), that is a lifesaver. You only need to know your current location and your destination, and the App will tell you what line to take and the approximate duration of the trip. Key word: approximation, and do not even ask about schedules. A friend and I used the bus to travel to el Caminito, an open air museum in La Boca.

Pope Francis in El Caminito

Pope Francis in El Caminito

When we were done taking photos and walking around, we headed back to where we were dropped off by the bus. This bus stop was unmarked; we only knew it was a bus stop because a line of people were waiting.  We waited and we waited, but the bus didn’t come. I finally asked someone if our line came here, and they said no. The bus stops changed, and we had to walk a ways to find the new bus stop. Thankfully the new one was marked. After an hour, we hailed the bus down and headed home.

Although these changes can be frustrating and overwhelming at times, I must admit that somethings are universal when it comes to transportation. For one, there are always crazy taxi drivers no matter where you go. For another, there are always strange people, doing strange things, on the bus. Also in every city, people jaywalk and don’t cross at the corner. So, no matter where you go, you’ll always have a story to share about the crazy traffic.


Location: Avenida 9 de Julio y Santa Fe 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.

Haitian Border

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.

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

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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

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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.

French architecture in Buenos Aires

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

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