Una tristeza que se baila

Hola todos,

As a few of you know (gracias, amigos, for bearing with me), I've been suffering from a corazón roto — a terrible, classic heartbreak — for the past three weeks. I couldn't concentrate or sleep and lost my appetite. Instead of feeling better, I felt sadder and more desperate every hour. I tried to snap myself out of it: go out with friends, immerse myself in work and my daily routine, listen to everyone's good advice... But the heartbreak (or, put another way, my hope) was stubborn, and nothing could make me forget.

As putting it all behind me didn't seem like an immediately plausible option, I spent most of my time reading and writing, listening to music and singing, and (think of it what you will) it wasn't all a waste. I rediscovered las jarchas, some of my very favorite poetry (the link has translations in English), Garcilaso's elegies and sonnets ("The sweet lament of two pastors" — it is so good, I might like it even better than Shakespeare. Cervantes complained in one of his stories "Why aren't real pastors ever like that?"), Nabokov's beautiful, cynical short stories. I went on a Representative Poetry Online spree looking for an echo of how I felt, and founds these amazing poems: "What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why," "We sat entwined an hour or two together," "Sonata in Pathos," "Letter from a Friend," "The Legacy," "yes at first," and "What's the Matter with Love": my favorite so far about heartbreak (it's a long list, but trust me, they are excellent). I read La puta verdad (The Truth's A Whore) by Mariano Schuster and El viejo fuego (The Old Fire) by Elvio Romero. And I wrote and wrote and wrote.

I am proud of some of my writings, and will edit and publish them soon (on my old poetry blog, which I also rediscovered). As a final thought to this portion, to quote Chanel from my poetry workshop via Facebook, "why do I ever stop reading poetry why." So as you can see, it wasn't a total loss.

After all this you may be wondering if my Buenos Aires adventures have come to a bit of a halt: they never did! As Jun put it a few months ago, "No paraste!" / "You never stopped!" If sexual harassment, housing disasters, robberies, and midterms-stress couldn't shut me down, then terrible heartbreak certainly won't (I know I am dramatic, but it's true). I have really made the most of all my time. =)

Last weekend I went to Fiesta Emergente with Jun. We saw some street dancing there. The first dancers were covered in plastic garbage bags, wrappers, and cords, and wearing prominently branded shoes, and for the finale, some hip hop dancers spun around upside down on their hands and heads and did completely airborne backflips. I had seen that on tv, but to see it in person was amazing! It was really great. After that we waited in a loooong line to see stand-up comedy. We waited for an hour or more, but it was worth it. I don't think I'd ever seen stand-up comedy live. According to the Fiesta Emergente agenda, stand-up comedy was invented in America and popularized worldwide by the tv show "Seinfeld." Menos mal! (I am glad it was!) We ate delicious pan relleno (stuffed bread) and shopped for ofertas (cheap books) at librerías to top the experience off (did I mention I love literature?).

That Sunday I met with my friend Steven from Holland at the San Telmo feria. We walked all the way to Plaza de Mayo and had coffee at a beautiful old-fashioned café near the Obelisco. He is encouraging me to use Linked In to start my career search; more good advice that I haven't taken yet... Looking for jobs and a semi-permanent place to live is will be my number one project after finals.

After that I had tea at El Gato Negro with Carlos from Perú (the tea is actually mediocre, but I love that place because it smells like curry, cloves, and cinnamon). We had a nice conversation and I made another stop at heaven (also known as the librerías of Corrientes y Callao) and bought a book by Horacio Quiroga. I've always loved the title of one of his books: "Stories of Love, Madness, and Death," although I decided on a different one, "Anaconda and Other Stories," because it seemed to contain more love stories, haha.

On Wednesday I ate Japanese food with my Korean friend Daniel and went out for beer at a Bolivian restaurant (he is probably the only person I've met whose favorite beer is Quilmes, the Argentine national beer). The Bolivian restaurant had about 200 tables and only 10 customers, and was decorated with big food court-style signs featuring typical fast foods, a Bolivian flag, and a medium-sized framed poster of an American rock band. It was cold inside (the same as outside, and it's winter here), but I have to say, the place had onda (good vibes). Daniel told me about a man he saw blowing a kiss to a woman on a public bus. He thought the gesture was funny considering the circumstance, and so do I! He told me, too, about the shock of his second day in the military (military service is required for all Korean men). Upon waking up, he saw forty unfamiliar faces and thought "Where am I? What did I do last night? Oh yeah, I joined the military..." He's been traveling all around Latin America this year. Since he's met so many friendly people who helped him in his travels, he wants to help Latin American travelers in Korea. It is just a thought right now, but he came up with the name Coreazón (Corea + Corazón, Korea + Heart). I like it! And he is right: latinos are very warm and welcoming. =)

Yesterday was my last day of undergraduate classes! I gave a  presentation in my Suicidology class about self-harm. It was my first time speaking in front of a Spanish-speaking audience and I was nervous, but the presentation went well — I got a 7/10. I translated part of my friend Devan's wonderful, insightful zine about cutting, and that was a hit. I paid an exorbitant fee (1 peso per page) to be able to distribute it (more than necessary even at that rate because I wanted them to see the pictures), but they enjoyed it and I'm glad I did. I am going to miss those guys!

I was so happy to be done with undergraduate classes forever that I victory-danced in the elevator with an equally enthused Italian from my class. It feels surreal! I'll be so, so glad to graduate! =)

Today was the start of an excellent weekend. I am feeling a lot better than I had been. I went to Marta Minujín's Tower of Babel made of books. There was a special event there today in honor of Ernesto Sábato's birthday. Sábato was one of Argentina's greatest writers (his letter to a young writer, "Querido y remoto muchacho," really inspired me) and passed away just this year. Some famous Argentine women read selections of his work and an amazing (and probably alos famous) tango band put some of his writing to music. He sang about "los locos que inventaron el amor," the crazy couple who invented love (in the context of the story, two porteños running around Avenida 9 de Julio ecstatic at midnight). One of the women told us that Sábato had referred to tango music as "una tristeza que se baila" / "a sadness that you dance." It was very cold outside and threatening rain, but the show was wonderful, and we got free Ernesto Sábato books. When it ended, no one left, so the tango band performed another song: "Por una cabeza," my new favorite. It's one of the most well-known tango songs, and everyone sang along. Here is a recording of it by Carlos Gardel, the most famous tango singer.

I stopped by Jorge's house since I was nearby and my cell phone wasn't working (it is temperamental and only occasionally works, but functions as my clock), but since he wasn't home I went to Galerías Pacífico to drink some coffee and read my new Sábato book.

After that I went to el Centro Cultural San Martín and saw a French movie about a family of clowns, called "Semianyki." I loved it and recommend it! Both the movie and the tango show I mentioned earlier were free. I am so thankful for all this sponsoring of the arts in Buenos Aires!

Tomorrow I'll go to the feria at San Telmo, and I haven't decided what else. Thank you, everyone, for reading — it means a lot to me! ¡Les quiero! I love you all!

Cariños
Kaeli

Robo, amigos, domingos

Hola, todos!

First, the bad news: Last Sunday my purse (along with my keys, cell phone, camera, school ID, and $50 US) was stolen at a café in San Telmo. I try to be careful about that — while walking, I have my purse in front of me and with my hand over it, and at the café I had wrapped my purse strap around the arm of the chair I was sitting (an English professor told me that someone stole her laptop at a café in Chicago right from the case she was trying to guard between her feet). The team efforts with someone there to distract you or threaten you are unfortunately hard to prevent.

In my case, a woman with tangled hair and an unusual indigenous poncho bumped into my table and spilled my water. She said "Perdón, perdón, perdón!" I was confused about how she could have bumped into my table on accident, because there was a pretty wide pathway there (I figured she was drugged or drunk), but I said "Está bien...", "It's fine." Then a different woman ran out of the café (I was sitting outside) and told me that someone had stolen my purse. I looked down the street and saw four people, but didn't know which one of them had my purse or what to do, and I saw them get away in a pick-up truck.


Luckily my house keys were easily replaceable, and my landlady (my new English student!) replaced them for me for free. Jorge let me borrow an old cell phone of his, and both Jun and Leo offered their old phones to me, too. Good friends make all the difference!


The thing I miss most is my camera. I am going through photography withdrawal, and seeing so many things I'd like to take pictures of. (My graduation, birthday, and return to the US are coming up, hint hint... haha.) But at least I didn't lose any of the texts for school I'd worked so hard to read and underline, the notebooks I write memoirs and fiction in, or my Korean purse or cards.


More bad news is that the ash from the volcanic eruption in Chile has arrived to Buenos Aires (and to a much greater degree, to the south of Argentina). I can see the ash cached in the grooves of car tires and between the tiles on the rooftops. The "buenos aires," "good airs" here are apparently not so great right now! haha. But the situation is fine in Buenos Aires, and I'm perfectly okay. Anita, a friend of mine in Bariloche, in the south of Argentina, posted pictures of her house completely covered in ashes — it reminds me of stories about the Dust Bowl/Dirty Thirties in the US (the dust working its way into every corner, into the dishes). A lot of the animals down there are dying, and according to the news, inhaling too much ash can cause cancer.

Yesterday Jorge and I went to The Kilkenny, an Irish bar with great rock music. He showed me an Argentine newspaper to give me commentary from an Argentine's perspective. The news about volcanic ash started on the second page of this edition (and continued for about four pages). On the first page was the news that the plane-full of weapons that the United States army had illegally flown into Argentina (supposedly for a police training program) had been returned to them. News about the US (unfortunately, mostly negative) is always on people's radar. He pointed out the ads for prostitution: even though prostitution is illegal here, there are advertisements for it everywhere, on the street and in the classifieds (I think that happens almost everywhere).

As for the good news: I had my second Social Psychology test last Thursday and feel sure that I passed (I'll get my grade tomorrow). I have one more pre-finals test to go, then finals, and then I'm done! Some of my finals will be oral, and I am nervous about it, and pretty stressed... But I try to assure myself I'll do fine, because I always do and I'm studying hard.

Other than that, I've been going to some expositions, dancing, and drinking matés and espressos with friends as usual. Fede (libertarian) took me to his favorite dance club, a discoteca that plays 70's music and has a multi-colored, light-up floor like the one in "Saturday Night Fever." It was really fun!

Last week I went to Rumi, a kind of exclusive, high-fashion dance club, with some of the girls at my house. I wanted to go just to experience that atmosphere. It was definitely something interesting and new. Everyone was all dressed up. Most of the men had gel in their hair and I was probably the only woman in the place not wearing high heels (a bad idea when you're planning to dance for five hours, if you ask me). There was smoke and lights, bad techno music, a lot of picture-taking, and two violent fights on the middle of the dance floor (the impact of one punch pushed fifty people back in an instant, and one guy hit another with a bar stool). It was not my kind of place at all, but I had fun dancing with the girls and experiencing something completely new.

On Sunday the weather was beautiful and I went to Chinatown and the botanical and Japanese gardens.

I saw some great expositions at Centro Cultural Borges (a photography exhibit themed around "hair," and the best exposition of paintings I've ever seen, featuring 12 contemporary Argentine artists) and Centro Cultural Recoleta (caricatures from London, funky-colored paintings of airports and train stations, and tiny paintings of everyday objects).

Jorge and I made a delicious beef, sausage, and salad dinner, and this week I'll make tacos for us. I made Leo some miso soup. For myself I'm planning kimchi-stirfry and spicy tofu!

And that is all the news for now!

Cariños, ¡que estén muy bien!
Kaeli

País de Benedetti y Zitarrosa

Hola todos,

I went to Colonia, Uruguay again to renew my visa to stay in Argentina. My trips to Colonia are always dreamlike, oníricos. The first time I went, it felt so romantic to step off a boat and into another país (country). I saw a grandpa and grandson painting a door, and the grandpa said "Look who's looking at you!" and chatted with me about Colonia, which stuck in my mind. The second time I went it felt surreal to be back. I hadn't thought I'd ever come back, and there I was, and everything was familiar even though so much had changed in between. I thought to myself on the boat that it would be nice to meet some artisans and see a candombe (a traditional Uruguayan dance) — more as a daydream than something I actually thought would happen — and ended up meeting an artisan who was a member of the candombe, seeing the show, meeting lots of Colonienses, and even extending my stay. This time it was dreamlike because I hadn't slept enough the night before, and actually spent most of the three-hour boat trip dreaming, with the radio interference of a documentary playing on a boat (with phrases like "during the dry season, the women dance to...", "one in six people in the world live in poverty", etc.) incorporated into my dream; because when I wasn't sleeping I was eating delicious "three dreams" chocolate; because Jorge and I talked about art all day and met some nice Mexican artisans who had been traveling South America; because the drivers were excessively courteous to pedestrians, and when we bought mate tea at a little supermarket, the cashier didn't even count the money, he just took it and trusted us; and because a little restaurant I saw had the flags of the four top countries on my mind: America (because I miss it!), Brazil (because that's where Tiago, my current love-interest is from), Uruguay (because there we were), and Argentina (my current home, and Jorge's país).

Here are some pictures of the trip! Hope you enjoy!

 Early morning outside the Buquebus ferry terminal. I am positive that the man rushing to the terminal on the crosswalk is Uruguayan, because he is holding a mate in his hand and has a thermos full of hot water for more tea tucked under his arm (I've seen about 30 Uruguayans and 0 Argentineans doing the same). Uruguayans drink mate constantly! I don't blame them: I also love it, and their yerba mate is more delicious! I stocked up on a big pack of Canarias mate when I went.

 

 El mar, the sea.

  

There aren't many cacti here at all, even though the climate is right for them. I love them!

 Jorge's dramatic picture of me. Adventuring and planning my next trip!

Jorge Redemptor, haha.

 The flowers and trees in Colonia are beautiful! It is almost winter here, and still it looks like this!

 A romantic doorway. Jorge thinks Colonia would be the perfect place to stay and write a novel.

 

  

La calle de los suspiros, The Street of Sighs, is famous in Colonia. It is beautiful!

Trees, shadows, painted houses, small-town people: those, plus all the artisans, musicians, and other arts, are my favorite things about Colonia. 

 Stew, omellets, empanadas, desserts, and good vibes (buena onda)! The buena onda is the most important part. =)

 After our ferry trip and a few hours of walking around we got pretty hungry. I looked for a Tex-Mex restaurant I said seen last time (I miss that food so much!). Since we couldn't find it, we went to a restaurant called the Pink House, and I ate chivito: filet mignon typical of Uruguay. I was pretty surprised when they brought this out: I was expecting something smaller and less fancy. But it was really, really good. The eggs and milk in Uruguay are delicious because they feed the animals all-natural food. The light yellow vegetables on the side are palm hearts. I'd never had them before this week, and love them, but feel guilty eating them because when I went to the Iguazu rainforest, I saw the trees, and learned that an entire tree needs to be cut down to make one salad. Those kinds of revelations are pretty incredible.

A blog about the rest of my week coming soon!

Love! <3
Kaeli