Bucket List Buenos Aires

Because of my impending departure from Buenos Aires, I have made it my goal to do as much as I possibly can before I leave. After looking at countless websites with lists of “must-see” sights, and leafing through numerous guidebooks, I compiled my own list of things to do and to see at some point during my last two weeks in Argentina. After completing that list, I decided that I should share some of the integral parts of a visit to the city that has been my home for the past three months.

1. Las Ferías
A large chunk of the lists in the various guidebooks consisted of ferías (fairs) around the city. Throughout my explorations of these never-ending fairs, I have found that there are two types. Type 1 consists of tourist fairs. They are jam-packed with rows of mate gourds and other Argentine paraphernalia (eg: shot glasses and key chains), frantic vendors trying to convince you that their posters are the best, and that their empanadas are the most delicious. While walking through these fairs, Spanish is rarely heard, and an abundance of other languages are constantly flying by. However overwhelming these fairs can be, I enjoy pushing through the crowds and admiring (and buying) all that is for sale. Type 2, however, are much less touristy. These fairs seems to exist more for the locals, and look more like the whole neighborhood decided to host a conjoined garage sale. Every weekend. You can find anything from old books to boots to children’s clothing to jewelry to old fashioned telephones to collectable coins to old furnitures. I always find these to be slightly humorous, but nonetheless worthwhile.

Another aspect of these fairs (specifically in Type 2) that I have found to be quite charming are the smatterings of book stands located at random spots around the city. These stands sell everything from old classics to textbooks to self help books to coloring books. I always feel compelled to purchase a Spanish translation of a Stephen King book before I convince myself that it would be completely unnecessary (considering I’ve never actually read a Stephen King book in English).

2. Parrilla Tradicional
Argentina is known for its meat. Everytime that I mention that I am here, I am asked if I am eating steak on a regular basis. While I have not made it a habit to have meat all the time, nor do I consider myself a learned connoisseur of the cuisine, I can definitely confirm the rumors of the high quality of meat (and I now understand why Argentines refuse to eat meat unless they prepare it themselves.) In my experiences, there are two ways to eat meat in a restaurant. One way is to go to any relatively nice restaurant, which typically caters to tourists and everyone can order their individual plate. Another way is to go to a place with the world parilla (barbeque) posted out front. One can usually expect an empanada, followed by a small grill being brought to the table stocked with a variety of different types of meat. Though at times you cannot be completely sure as to which type of meat you are consuming, everything is generally pretty delicious.

3. Cafe con leche y tres medialunas
Cafe con leche (coffee with milk) and tres medialunas (three mini-croissants) are a very typical Argentine breakfast. The medialunas are much sweeter than your normal croissants, and incredibly delicious. Every cafe and coffee shop advertises their special deal for the duo, and it is quite common to see a spread of people enjoying the combo while reading their newspapers. It is also very commonplace to see the same occurrence at around 5 pm, to make up for their ridiculous late dining hour (see #7).

4. Empanadas
Empanadas are a given for this country. They’re everywhere. At around noon, the promotions advertising for cafe con leche y tres medialunas change to promoting two empanadas of your choice, accompanied by either a soda or a beer. Typical empanada fillings consist of meat, chicken, ham and cheese, or vegetables; but on occasion you can find caprese, napolitan, or other creative mixings inside them. At around one most schools break for lunch, and I always find hordes of teenagers wandering the streets, or sitting in front of various stores eating the aforementioned empanadas.

5. Take a Salsa Class
A visit to a Latin American country is not complete without some form of a exposure to Latin Dance. Though Argentina is known for its Tango (see #6), there are also a fair amount of Salsa dancers, and Salseras, or bars established specifically for Salsa. I, along with two of my roommates (one of whom dances Salsa at home and had been itching to do so here for the past couple of months), decided to go to one of these Salseras to attend a Salsa class. Though the class was said to be a beginner’s class, I can assure you that my roommate and I were the two people in the room who had never done it before. I can also assure you that I will never win any awards for my Salsa Dancing abilities. I did, however, enjoy the experience and I am kind of hoping Oberlin will decide to offer a Salsa class in the coming years.

6. Go to a Milonga
Argentina is famous for its tango. And to have an authentic, Argentine Tango experience, a Milonga is the place to go. First of all, I would like to point out that Tango is an extremely important aspect of the culture. The way that I grew up listening to the Beatles, and subsequently knowing every word to every song, coincides with the way in which Argentines grow up knowing every word to every Tango song. A Milonga (at least the one that I visited) has a small kitchen and bar, and lots of small tables surrounding a dance floor. It is populated by a diverse group of people--ranging from retired married couples to young tango enthusiasts. No matter the age, everyone was just as actively enjoying the familiar music. Though I felt a bit out of place, I definitely enjoyed the experience.

7. Eat dinner at 11pm (or later).
For some reason, people in Argentina never eat dinner before 9:30, but even more frequently not before 11. This is one practice that most westerners have a very difficult time adjusting to. Argentines frequently make fun of the fact that we eat ridiculously early. I normally eat around 8:30 because Susana, the woman with whom I live, thinks that I, as a North American, am unable to eat later than that. So even though I have not made it a habit to have dinner past 11 pm, I have done it a couple of times. It still surprises me when I walk past a restaurant at midnight and it’s packed with the nightly dinner rush.

8. Stay out until 6 am
With the tendency to have dinner later, comes the tendency to stay out later in general. Argentines like to stay out late (or early, depending on how you look at it). People will have dinner, then spend some time at a bar, and then go to a club. In fact, most clubs don’t even open until at least 1 am. While I have stayed out until the sun was almost out once or twice, it is definitely not something I plan to bring back to the states (don’t worry, mom and dad). In addition to the party-late mindset, Argentine children do not have what we would consider a normal bed time. I’ve seen kids in ice cream shops with their parents at one in the morning; I’ve witnessed kids playing in the park located in a plaza known for its nightlife surrounded by drunken bar patrons. It begs the question of whether or not babysitters exist in this country--but it once again shows the many cultural differences that exist.

9. Put Dulce de Leche on everything.
Dulce de leche is in everything in Argentina. There’s dulce de leche ice cream; pancakes are served with it heaped on top; it is served with toast (alongside various types of jam); it’s a staple ingredient of an ice cream sundae; at least a half of an aisle in every grocery store is dedicated to the various available brands; it is the filling for many pastries; and it is found in most alfajores (see #10). Now, don’t get me wrong, I think dulce de leche is as delicious as the next person, but there has to be a limit. The expression “I put ketchup on my ketchup” perfectly describes this country's addiction to the delicious spread. Not only is it put on everything, but people are often quite generous regarding the amount used. I don’t think you walk more than a couple of blocks without seeing an ad for some line of it, nor can you watch television without seeing an ad depicting the utter delight of some adorable Argentine child after his mom serves him his toast with mountains of dulce de leche on top. Nonetheless, dulce de leche is definitely one aspect of this country that I will miss.

10. Try as many brands of alfajores as possible.
Considering more than half of this post has revolved around food, I think by now (if you’re still reading this), you have probably picked up on how delicious it all tends to be. My favorite Argentine food, by far, are alfajores, which seem to be the national dessert of choice. Typically, they are made with two pieces of dough sandwiching a layer of dulce de leche, and then dipped in chocolate. My mom likens them to high class ding dongs. Though I prefer the classic alfajor, you can find them made with rice cakes, or with jam instead of dulce de leche, or made entirely with chocolate, or with no chocolate at all. In addition to the variety in flavors, there are an unimaginable amount of alfajor brands. For example, I’ve seen Oreo brand alfajores, Nestle has one, and every chocolate company in Argentina has their own type (if not many types) of alfajores. You can find them in all of the kiosks that line the streets of the city, you can get them at most coffee shops, and almost all bakeries (which are as common as Starbuck’s is in the states) make their own gourmet version of an alfajor. And for those of you who are slightly intrigued by my not-so-eloquent description of the delicacy, I will be bringing home a box so that as many people as possible can bear witness to the amazingness that is an alfajor.

11. Drink Yerba Mate
Yerba Mate, in my opinion, should replace the image of the sun placed in the center of the Argentine flag. It’s everywhere. According to Wikipedia (which is clearly a very reliable source of information), “Mate is present in 95% of households and 79% of the population drinks the beverage.” Though you can find mate cocido (toasted mate) in tea bags, it is generally served loosely. One will put the mate leaves in a traditional mate gourd (see picture below). Some will add sugar, or some other form of sweetener, and others will drink it straight. Then, hot water (but not boiling, as to not burn the tea) is poured in. One drinks the mate through a special straw that has a special filter at one end of it. These straws are typically made out of some form of metal, and often have some form of decoration. When one person finishes the water, the gourd is passed to the next person. In my opinion, mate tastes like green tea, but with a slightly stronger flavor. Not a day has passed where I haven’t seen someone on the street with a thermos tucked under their arm and a mate gourd in their hand. 

 


Though I can hardly believe my time in Argentina, and my gap year as a whole, is coming to an end, I am definitely looking forward to spending some time at home. The past year has been absolutely incredible. I have had the opportunity to immerse myself in foreign cultures, I have learned to be significantly more independent, and I have had experiences that I wouldn’t trade for anything. And I can speak Spanish (with a ton of mistakes).

PS: Tell everyone you know to take a gap year. It’s a good decision, I promise.

The Personalities of the World

Throughout my many adventures, I have noticed that every country that I have visited has its own unique personality. Of course, every country is known for its world famous (insert type of food here) or for having the tallest (insert landmark here) in the world. But I think that what really makes one country different from the next is the people. For example, in Tanzania, people are kind and welcoming, reflected in the extensive list of greetings in Swahili. Israelis are honest and direct, sometimes to a fault. In Argentina I have noticed that people are just incredibly nice. As unsatisfying as it was to write that word, I really can’t think of another way to describe it. People constantly hold doors open for other people; seats on subways and buses are always given to older people or pregnant woman; when someone slips and falls on the street, a complete stranger always goes to check if they’re okay; if a bus driver sees you running to get to bus, he’ll wait for you; when you ask someone on the street for directions they help you, and if they can’t, they’ll help you find someone who can.

All in all, coming from Los Angeles this behavior is about as foreign to me as is Mandarin Chinese. Though it took some time to accustom myself to having a full conversation with someone if I mistakenly bump into them, instead of just half-heartedly apologizing, I have found that I rather enjoy this aspect of Argentine culture. I am always ready to engage in conversation with the person that I inevitably will bump into, and am never scared to ask for directions. Thats being said, when someone does something uncharacteristically terse, it catches me off guard. For example, when the bus driver stopped at the red light wouldn’t open the door for me I was quite surprised. And when someone bumped into me on the street and did nothing more than give me a perfunctory smile, I couldn’t help but think how rude that person had been--no matter that my immediate reaction was probably to do the same exact thing.

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One of my favorite parts about being in Buenos Aires (other than the never ending supply of friendly faces), is the people that I have had the opportunity to meet. Because I’m living in a hostel-like environment, there are constantly interesting people moving in and out of the apartment. Though my roommate is American, there are currently people from Germany and Brazil living here--and that doesn’t include the various Dutch, French, and Colombian people that have come through in the past months. Because we are all here from different places, doing completely different things, our combined friends and experiences lead to a host of interesting outings and conversations. Also, in general the one language that everyone can speak is Spanish, so many of us are speaking in our second language.

I talked to someone who was writing her thesis comparing German and Argentine literature. I met one person who was born in England, lived in India, and then grew up in Ohio, but is now studying anthropology in Buenos Aires, and is in the process of obtaining Argentine citizenship. I conversed with a Venezuelan about his current academic endeavors, which have brought him to live in Buenos Aires for the past two years. And I have lived with a Brazilian man who is currently finishing up his credits to obtain his degree in Physical Therapy.

It is incredible to be surrounded by people who have done such interesting things and to hear all of their stories. I have had the chance to immerse myself in Argentine culture, while simultaneously learning about the customs of places that I have yet to visit.

Volunteer Work and Family Visits

I once again apologize for my inexcusable month long hiatus. But here’s what’s been happening:

My first two weeks of volunteer work consisted of sitting in front of a computer copying and pasting an e-mail to a list of Argentine editorials. While I appreciated the fact that I was helping underprivileged children gain access to books that they otherwise would not have the opportunity to use, I also felt that I did not want to spend my three months in Argentina doing exactly what I could be doing at home. After expressing my concerns to my volunteer coordinator, she set up a different type of work for me. Now, I am working at a home for girls who were sexually abused, typically by a member of their family, and now live at this home in Buenos Aires.

So far, I have been given a host of tasks: I have helped girls with homework assignments; I have picked girls up from school; I have brought them to therapy; I have gone to doctor’s appointments with them; I have helped the women who run the home prepare lunch (though I have been banned from chopping onions because my eyes are too weak); and I have gone on countless random errands. I have really enjoyed the work so far--in addition to having constant opportunities to practice my Spanish, I have gotten more of an insight into some of the social issues that plague Argentine society.

In addition to the volunteer work, I have began to explore more of the city and the surrounding areas. I decided to take advantage of Buenos Aires’ thriving Jewish community and I went to a Shabbat service (much to my mom’s delight). I enjoyed it; though at times it was slightly confusing when I had to think both in Spanish and in Hebrew. (I also found it interesting that their transliteration used a “j” for the “chet” sound). The community was incredibly welcoming and it was great to experience some familiarity. Afterwards, the rabbi introduced me to a group of girls from the States who are currently studying abroad in Buenos Aires. It was great to have the chance to speak English for a bit. The synagogue itself is located right in the middle of Barrio Chino (Chinatown), which makes for a very interesting surrounding community, and for some compelling post-services Shabbat dinners.

Last week, for Emma’s spring break, my family came down to visit, which was great. We wandered the streets of Buenos Aires, visiting many of the typical tourist spots--we went to the Recoleta Cemetery (in Latin America, graves are built above ground, and everything is constructed intricately and beautifully), we had dinner at the port, we visited the iconic and colorful village of La Boca, and admired the Casa Rosada (at which my parents could not resist singing every word of “Don’t Cry for me Argentina”). We went to an estancia (ranch) in the Province of Buenos Aires for a night. While there, we went horseback riding, enjoyed incredible Argentine food, and relaxed in the tranquil environment (though we were all completely covered in mosquito bites upon our return to the city).

For Passover, we went to a Seder hosted by the local Chabad House. Almost all of the attendees were young Israelis, and the entire Seder was in Hebrew, but we had a pretty good time (except for Dad, who somehow got stuck sitting next to an intoxicated Chabad-nic, who, in addition to conducting his own private sedar, downing his “four cups” of wine in about 10 seconds, eating the food he brought in a lunch box, had many incoherent stories to tell). After a great ten days, it was sad to see them leave, but I am looking forward to all that is to come!

What Do You Love?

After a week of classes I have started my volunteer work and I am finally starting to feel settled in. First, I am going to briefly delve into my first in week in Buenos Aires, and what my classes were like. The class consisted of one other student, one teacher, and me. The other student is currently retired, but is the former director of the graduate business program at the McGill University. My teacher was a 20-something struggling musician who seems to have adopted the mindset that Buenos Aires is the greatest place in the world, and that all Americans are fat, stupid, and rude. (I got that from him all week, but it was solidified on the last day when he said, “I always like meeting Americans, because they are always so different than what I expect.” Now whether or not that was a compliment is up for debate.)

As you can imagine, the diversity in the classroom was slightly startling at times. My teacher, when either my classmate, David, or I would tell stories about anything from his fishing trips to Alaska or a hike I went on with my friends, would always affix the phrase “wish lots of marijuana and alcohol!” to the end of the story. Because clearly, no experience is a good one unless there is weed and alcohol involved. He also made sure to teach me various locutions, such as, “don’t fuck with me” and “get the fuck away.” He claimed, that as a young girl, I need to know how to defend myself. In Spanish.

However eclectic the classroom was (or maybe because of it), we had incredibly stimulating conversations everyday. We talked about everything from the upcoming US election to Malaysia's Petronas Towers to the way Antarctica is divided by nation. David has lived a full and enriching life and loved to bring his experiences and opinions into our conversations. Of course, he was often convinced that his opinions are the only ones that matter. Though it was somewhat frustrating when my thoughts were discounted solely due to my age, I revelled in hearing every one his opinions. One topic that came up (though I don’t remember how we stumbled upon this subject) was the best way to greet somebody. He asked me--what is the third question you always ask after meeting someone for the first time (after asking their name and where they’re from). I, of course, instantly responded that the third question is always, “what do you do?” He then went onto to explain instead of asking that, the third question should be, “what do you love?” He says, that this way instead of immediately imposing various career based stereotypes onto this person, your first impression of them will be of them talking about something they are truly passionate about. Though I don’t know how well this would go over in practice, I like the theory.

When that week was over, after promising David that I will take an Urban Geography class at Oberlin, and e-mail him about it when I do, I had the weekend before starting my volunteer work. Sarah, my roommate, and I decided to go Tigre, which is about an hour long train ride away from the city of Buenos Aires. After maneuvering through various Subte and train stations, (four in total), we arrived in Tigre. The town itself is mainly a tourist attraction, due to its location on the Paraná Delta and the large casino situated in the town’s center. The train station is surrounded by various vendors (reminiscent of a flee market), stores and cafes. After lunch (during which Sarah and I decided to speak English, because we both felt that we didn’t know anything about each other, other than what we were able to communicate in Spanish), we took a boat tour in the delta, which was both beautiful and relaxing. After a relatively simple trip home, we were both exhausted and looking forward to the chance to the sleep in on Sunday.

On Sunday, after lazing around a bit in the morning I decided to go to the Gran Splendid branch of El Ateneo, which is the Argentine version of Barnes and Noble’s. This particular branch was a theater from 1919 until 2000, when it was converted into a bookstore. Though all of the chairs have been replaced by bookcases, the former identity of the building is still very much of apparent. The cafe at the front of the store is placed where the stage was previously, with the curtains intact, though permanently drawn up. The intricate carvings of the three balconies and the paintings on the ceiling, which I though were reminiscent of the ceiling of a church in Italy, and the air conditioning, made it a great place to spend the afternoon.

Monday morning marked my first day of volunteer work. I met the volunteer coordinator to go over basic rules and expectations before going to meet my boss for the next three months. First I was given a brief introduction to the organization’s work. The organization works on various social development projects all over the country, but I will be working in a small, under served community just outside of the city. In this town, unemployment in widespread, largely due to inadequate education. Fundación Metáfora’s goal is to increase employment opportunities by helping people receive proper education. In the past year they have opened a primary school for adults that holds various workshops on subjects such as cinematography, cooking, computer/technology, and many others. Their belief is that it is not helpful for these people to sit in a classroom to be talked or lectured at, but that it is significantly more productive to provide experiences.

For my time in Argentina, I will be spending part of the week in the office, and part of the week at the school. At the office, I have been sending various editorial and publishing companies e-mails asking for book donations, and assisting with other administrative tasks. I am going to the school tomorrow, and I am looking forward to finding out more about the people I will be working with while I am there.

Side note: I tried mate today, which is signature Argentine tea. It has a similar taste to Green tea, and the whole country practically swears by. Of course my former Spanish teacher says that is is quite common for people to spike their mate with some sort of liquor, but Susana, the woman with whom I live, claims that this is untrue.

Argentine Armageddon

This past July, Los Angeles’ media portrayed the 53 hour period of which the 405 was closed as Carmageddon. In other words, Los Angeles’ officials and its occupants were comparing the closure of a major traffic artery to the supposed end of the world. Histrionic though it seemed, , many Los Angelenos decided to either flee the city (myself included) or lock themselves in the house for the two-plus days. Though I was not in LA for those fateful days, the frantic attitudes of everyone surrounding me was enough to convince me that LA was going to be brought to its knees.  It turned out to not really be true.  No matter.  Having grown up in LA, where public transportation is more of a joke than anything else, it had never occurred to me that shutting down a subway system would be viewed as tantamount to Carmageddon.  

Argentina is known for constant public protests. Today, the Subway system’s (the Subte) workers were protesting. This means that the 2 million people who use the Subte each day to get to and from work, school, or wherever else they may be going needed to find another way to get there. The lines for the colectivos (buses) were exponentially long, and when a colectivo would finally come, they frequently wouldn’t stop due to insane amounts of overcrowding. Not only that, but the roads were overly congested due to the amount of people that decided to drive today. Also, did I mention that it was raining?

When I walked out of my apartment and went to get in line for the colectivo, I happened to run into my Spanish teacher. He informed me that he was planning on walking to school to avoid the tumultuous colectivos. So we walked--it was a lot closer than I was expecting--and we were only 45 minutes late to school. It did seem that we were moving a lot faster than traffic.

The most surprising part of this experience is that apparently it happens all the time.

City Living

Every time I go to a new place,  I am shocked by something. When I arrived in Buenos Aires (at 5 am), I was shocked by the familiarity of being in a city again. Though each city has its own specific charm, there is a distinct “city” feeling. To me, Buenos Aires seems like a combination of LA and New York (maybe just because these are the only two cities that I really know). LA because of the big highways and the way the city is split up into many different barrios (neighborhoods) and New York because of the abundance of one-way streets and the eternally hot and crowded subway system. After spending five out of the six past months months in small rural towns, the idea of not being able to walk through my entire town in less than 30 minutes is super exciting.

I live in Almagro, which is a Barrio about three miles from the city’s center. I was able to pick up (more or less) Buenos Aires’s Subte (the subway system) and can get myself around the city, but I have yet to master the complicated mess of colectivos (public buses). My first couple of days in town were spent wandering around and attempting to decipher Argentine Spanish. Their accents are quite different from those in Mexico and Costa Rica, and there are many words and phrases that are only applicable in Argentina. Though it’s been difficult, more and more has been starting to make sense.

There are three other students living with me--one is from Colombia, one from Germany, and one from Virginia. We live with an Argentine woman, Susana, in her apartment. The apartment takes up an entire floor and in addition to Susana’s room, has four bedrooms for students, each with two twin beds.

On Sunday, after a minimal amount of rest, we all went to a local environmental festival called EcoFest, and then spent some time wandering around one of Buenos Aires’s many parks. Though I was exhausted when we got back to the house, it was a great way to start out this last phase of my gap year.

Tuesday was my first day of classes. I got up bright and early to take my Spanish placement test before spending the rest of the day in class. Though the classes aren’t as structured as Conversa’s, I am enjoying them.

Today I met with the coordinator of the volunteer program and she explained a bit about what I am going to do starting Monday when I begin to volunteer. Though my exact tasks are still somewhat fuzzy, I’m looking forward to it. More on that soon!

I’m off to a great start in Argentina and can’t wait for more!

¡Hasta Luego, Costa Rica!

I'm frequently asked what my typical day is like? In Tanzania, though I had a degree of routine, I never felt like I had a solidified schedule. I do here. Every morning I wake up at 6:30, my host mom gives me breakfast, and I am out of the house by 7:20 to make it to the bus stop by 7:30. The Conversa bus brings us to campus, which is about a 20-minute bus ride into the hills surrounding the town of Santa Ana. After arriving, we have about 30 minutes of down time before the bell signaling the start of class at 8:30 is rung. Each Monday we are assigned to a different instructor, so that we do not become too accustomed to one teacher's way of speaking. We then have class from 8:30 until 1:10, with 10 or 20 minute breaks very hour. At 1:10, lunch is served.

In the afternoon one can choose to go home, or participate in any of the activities offered on or off campus. For example, every Tuesday there is a yoga class, and every Wednesday, Conversa's director, David, holds his weekly grammar seminar before a salsa lesson. On Thursday's there is normally some off-campus activity. For example, we have gone to a coffee farm to pick coffee beans, to a sugar plantation, where we were able to watch the sugar making process. We also took day trips--once to a history museum (El Museo de Oro) in San José, and once to a museum of contemporary art, which was also in San José.

Now, because I am terrible at updating this blog, this rest of this post is to update anyone who is still reading this on the events of the past 3 weeks.

So, I still love my host family. They are all incredibly sweet and patient enough to listen to me attempt to speak Spanish. We played Apples to Apples together in Spanish, which was a lot of fun, though slightly painstaking due to Amelia's (my American housemate) and my less than perfect Spanish.

For my first weekend in Costa Rica, I opted to stay in Santa Ana. On Saturday, Aubree (another girl, my age, at Conversa) and I went to Café Britt, a coffee plantation located about 20 minutes away from Santa Ana. The morning began with tours of the plantation and the factory, followed by a delicious lunch. On Sunday, Aubree and I had planned on going to a local soccer game, but after spending close to an hour in search of the bus, we gave into the heat and ate ice cream.

After another week of classes I spent my second weekend in Monteverde, with a group of students from Conversa, who were mostly older retired folks. I was concerned that hanging out with the "elderly" would be less fun, but I had a great time. We went zip lining above the canopy of the cloud forest and hiking through a series of hanging bridges overlooking the forest.

For my final weekend in Costa Rica, Aubree and I decided to spend the weekend at Manuel Antonio, a beach and national park located on the Pacific coast. We found a hostel in the area, figured out which bus we needed to take and were off. The weekend was incredibly relaxing. We experienced both the serenity of the national park's beach, and the slight craziness of a Costa Rican public beach, full of snow cone and "authentic Costa Rican art" vendors. Though it was a great weekend, getting back to my host mom's home cooked meals was very much welcome.

In all, I had a great experience in Costa Rica, and I am very much looking forward to Argentina!