A fabulous group of musicians playing the tango at a street fair in San Telmo
Let me start by saying: please ignore all grammatical/spelling errors in my writing! Since diving deep into Spanish (starting with the trip to Mexico in November) I have nearly lost all my English.
I´m having a fun time comparing my Argentine host family with my Mexican host family experience. My Mexican host mom, Mali, always wanted me to be ready and leave for school early. “¡Ay! You´re going to be late.” In contrast, my Argentine host mom, Ana Maria, tells me I should sleep in a bit longer and when I say I´d better get going, she says “¡Tranquile! Eat, enjoy your breakfast.” “But I need to brush my teeth, pack my bag –“ “You don´t want to arrive on time. Nobody will be ready.” She has made me late to school every day! (Very difficult for me.)
Ana Maria (60) is very active and healthy. She insisted on taking me for a walk my first afternoon to show me the school and the neighborhood, and she nearly killed me. She has two sons, and I suspect always wanted a daughter, because she pointed out every cute dress and store I should go shopping in.
She says “Que barbaro!” every other sentence, which is classic porteño slang, similar to “wow” in that it is an exclamation for both really good and really bad things. The local Spanish (called Castellano) sounds more beautiful than Chicano Spanish (de Mexico) but the slight differences in pronunciation completely throw my comprehension. I´m getting better, but I hope I don´t pick up the accent because I´ve learned that it is only true for Buenos Aires and no other part of Argentina or Chile.
Ana Maria keeps me up all night talking. The typical schedule is much later than Americans keep. Porteños don´t eat dinner until 10:30 or 11 pm, and they go out dancing or to bars and don´t go to bed until 4 or 5 am. It´s great for young vacationers, but all other foreigners (especially those who have to be at language school at 9 am) suffer.
I haven´t gone out yet, but even when I return to my homestay to try and get some sleep, I can´t say my final goodnight until 1 am.
Ana Maria and her husband, Hector (63, an accountant), live in a fairly small apartment on the first floor in a residential neighborhood. I walk 12 busy blocks to the school, a very beautiful colonial building in Recoleta, reputedly one of the nicest neighborhoods in the city, although I like San Telmo better.
El patio del apartmento de Ana Maria
La sala
La escuela
El internet (que nunca funciona) en la escuela
A group of students from language school
The same way that some people have trouble telling faces apart in Asia or other parts of the world, it is starting to seem to me like all the young men here are the same guy – the perfectly tan, toned and manicured lead singer of a boy band. Hahaha. I think appearances are very important here.
Yesterday, I had lunch with a group of women from the language school from all different countries, all ages, and all levels of Spanish. Represented at our happy table were the U.S. (yo), France (Constance), Holland (Natasja), Japan (Yumi), Germany (Martina), and Brazil (Daniela Y Thail). Our Calvin Klein model look-alike waiter fawned all over us and said “Thank you” in six languages. In stilted Spanglish we talked about Argentine food, smoking regulations around the world, what kind of men we prefer, and whether or not the Porteño men like us. (We agreed that they are most interested in Porteñas and women from Brazil.)
Yumi, Natasja y yo
Constance, Thail, Martina, Daniela
Tonight I’m going to another tango lesson organized by the school in Palermo – the city´s shopping, eating and clubbing district. It´s hard to believe I´ve been here a week and haven´t made it there yet. First a siesta!
Dancing at El Museum in San Telmo
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