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.
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.
