Thursday, June 28, 2007

The Escape Artist -- Being Present

I am a very "present" person -- I don't anticipate much in life because I am usually so stuck and loving the present moment, that I forget/neglect to look ahead.

** TIME OUT TO MAKE EMPANADAS.** Heck yes, Argentina. Heck. yes.

Empanada update: Mine were good, but my little sister's were better. But -- seriously. She's argentine. She was born making empanadas.

Back to being present. Today I was in this awful mood -- one of those restless, mopey moods. And it had nothing to do with BsAs but all I could think about was how great it would be to be home. And I was seriously considering changing my flight and leaving So. Amer. Monday. And then while listening to Wonderwall on a colectivo, I realized that looking at life that way is no good. I shouldn't always think somewhere else is better... I don't want to live like an escape artist.

For the past three years, I've had "the other" place to idealize: while at home with problems, Loyola sounded great; while at Loyola with issues, home sounded better (at times). And I don't think that's healthy. So today I decided that although I want to run from BsAs, here I am. And I have to find something in this huge city that will help lift me from my funk. I can't wish I was in Chicago. So I put Chicago out of my head and turned to face this monster of a city, hoping it would gift me with something, and my mood changed in an instant. It didn't disappear, but there was a contentment that I had lacked before. It HAS to take care of me. And I have to let it.

Yay for being present...

Monday, June 18, 2007

Ah! No!!

So today while staring out the window of Colectivo #15(Bus), I had my first attack of "No! I can't leave yet! I don't want to!" I have three more weeks in the great BsAs before traveling northern Argentina, but being able to see the end so clearly scares the... well, it scares me a lot. I believe in living well through any transition, and in doing transitions well, but with this one... I don't want the transiton so I have no "ganas" (desire) to attempt it well. I want to suck the life out of the three weeks I have left -- I don't want to spend energy transitioning. There isn't enough time left for that.

So I'm stuck in this paradox, this contradiction... trying to ignore the daunting feelings of leaving while still living fully and well in the moments I have...

It hit me today that I am not scared to leave activities here -- tango, UBA, colectivo riding (although I will have moments when I return of wanting these things) -- but I am scared to leave the people and the culture. Me engancharon. They have hooked me. I want more pretty breakfasts with my sisters and Andrea. I want more four hour dinners and "sobremesas" with red wine (the after dinner time when you sit and talk for hours). I want more mate during heated class discussions. I want more walks to the frutería where the owners call me "linda" y "muñeca" (Pretty and Doll) and have my vegetables of choice ready before I ask. I'm already yearning for these things...

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

My Argentine Flair

So a few friends have excitedly said, "I can't wait to meet the new you! I can't wait to see how you've changed!" And in truth, I feel like I'm going to disappoint them; I really am still Megan, you'll definitely recognize me and fall right back into normal-life with me. However...

My best friend recently wrote me a letter and affirmed me as an Argentine-American, and as her friend with "Argentine flair." I laughed and decided to claim both. Here a few ways I've changed:
-- I keep my room clean (MOST of the time...)
-- I am more politically aware.
-- I dance tango.
-- I like coffee.
-- I'm kinda more trendy... (haha. I say that with some shy shame)
-- I like going out until unruly hours of the morning.
-- I eat slowly and sit down at a set table for each meal.
-- I can't go without afternoon teas.
-- (I still hate cats. During this email I have literally THROWN our cat Azul from the desk six times.)
-- I am a wait-er. I wait for conversation to loosen up so then real conversations can start and last until 2 or 3am; I wait without a working flusher and use a bucket because there is always SOMETHING that doesn't work; I wait for professors who come to class 29 minutes late. I'm more flexible and laid-back. Because if not, one would die with all the disfuncionality here (I can't spell English words anymore, as you can see).
-- I love a good red wine.
-- I appreciate simple living.
-- I don't speak or write English as well because either: Spanish comes out, or Spanish translations that don't work in English come out.
-- I take more risks and live more adventurously.
-- I'm more of free spirit than I was.
-- I speak with my hands AND my voice (very porteño).
-- I'm more confident.
-- And my life resume has lengthened at least 3 pages. haha.

Yay, Buenos Aires. There is an... cartel... shoot, what's the English translation? A... board with advertisements on the side of a road? Anyway. One ad right now says, "Buenos Aires, cada vez te veo, te quiero más." Buenos Aires, each time I see you, I love you more. It's true. It's so true.

Monday, June 11, 2007

Whose government is it??

I just read a bbc.com article about the issue of Attorney General Alberto Gonzales and the Congress no-confidence... check it out at bbc.com. I'm not here to comment on our president (directly) or US politics (at the moment), but something Mr. Bush said deeply disturbed me.

He said, "They can try to have their votes of no confidence, but it's not going to determine who serves in my government."

"MY government."

The government of the United States is just that: OF (aka belonging to) the United States. George W. Bush is serving US, the people. When someone claims a democratic government as their own, moreover when the leader claims it as his own... something is not right.

Now I know Bush knows its not his. However, I'm so aware of language used -- I think it often shows underlying beliefs/opinions. So the fact that Bush used "my"...

Two days later while editing the above "entrada":
But I don't just want this to be about Bush. Because that is unfair and self-righteous of me, and because I want to have hope for our government regardless the leader. So since I first sat to wrote this, I've been thinking a lot about what MY viewpoint of government is: Do I see it as OUR (aka including me?)? Do I take responsibility for it? What, really, does our government mean to me? So many questions...

Sunday, June 10, 2007

Memoria Abierta

I am currently working on a semester project, and it consists in comparing how people construct history differently, and what the construction of history entails. I have chosen to watch interviews from survivors of a certain detention center (the ESMA) from the Argentine dictatorship of the 1970s. I'm working with an organization called Memoria Abierta, that is documenting the history of the period, so far with over 500 interviews. I spent 12 hours in three days listening to four people speak, and I have a few more days to go before I am finished. It's exhausting, heart-breaking, fascinating, and question-inspiring.

Background: To make this short, between 1955-1983 there were three "golpes militares" (military overthrows of the elected government): 1955, 1962, 1976. While there was violence in each, the "Dirty War" happened in the last one. 30,000 people "disappeared" (= taken by the government and killed, the majority of the bodies never found). During the 1960s, there were many social changes as there were across the world, and the government thought the only way to suppress the activists and create order was to kill them. So they took them off of streets, out of schools, out of factories, out of their homes, brought them to concentration camps (some in the heart of Buenos Aires), tortured them and then killed them and hid/disposed of their bodies. This dictatorship lasted until 1983. (Side note: like the dictatorships in Chile, Guatemala and elsewhere, the United States actively supported it.)

I have just started really asking questions about the time period. Those who were taken would have been mid-50s now, and their children between 20-30. The history is fresh, virtually untouched, and still very painful for people here. My mom's family hid an activist in their campo house. I just found out a very good family friend was detained and was an intense activist. People's friends and families are "desaparecidos." The past week has been emotionally exhausting.

Why am I interested? I'm sure there's an element of sheer fascination of how this could happen, but mostly... in truth, I'm still trying to figure it out. History touches me on a very deep, compassionate level. I believe in using history to recognize the worth in individuals, to work for freedom, to use it preventatively for the future... and more. So to hear that my friend was detained, to know that my extended family has friends that were disappeared, to live in this beautiful city that just recently experienced so much pain... it's intense. I think I want to know about it to try to understand how it happened, how it could happen, how people are capable of it, to understand and grab hold of the militantes' (activists) ideals of freedom and justice, to empathize with this people and culture I've fallen in love with... I don't know exactly. I'm still trying to figure it out.

If you want me to write more, or have specific questions, let me know and I'll add another entry...

For more information, google "desaparecidos," "Dirty War", go to www.memoriaabierta.org, or just search for information...

Monday, June 4, 2007

Mopeds and Sighs




I just spent the weekend in Colonia, Uruguay. It was my first time traveling since February and it was amazing. Colonia is a city founded by the Portugueses in 1680 as a smuggling port into Buenos Aires. In the 1770s, Spain conquered it and it finally won its autonomy with Uruguay in the 1820s. It is a tourist attraction and rightly so. Cobblestone streets and houses remain from the 1600s, and its on the water. It's breathtaking. The people live simply, love their little city, speak slowly and beautifully, and drink more mate per person than any other place in the world.

Highlights of my trip:
-- Street of Sighs. First off, best street name ever. Second, it was the street of true "kilombos" (brothels, the word now used in Argentine slang as "a mess") in the 1700s -- photo above. All the houses and street remain from that época. Yeah, history!
-- Omar's moped. While walking around, I met Omar, who has lived in Colonia for over 50 years. He offered to take me to the Plaza de Toros, the only bull-fighting stadium así in S. America. It was used a few times then abandoned. Secret of my life: sometimes I act like I know what people say, but I really haven't a clue. This was one of those times. All I knew was that this was an old uruguayan offering to show me something 3 km out of the city by way of moped. Heck yes! So I spent the afternoon with Omar riding around the coast and through small neighborhoods and climbing inside an abandoned Plaza de Toros -- picture above. I LOVE life.
-- Chivitos. Typical Colonia dish: steak covered in ham, cheese, bacon and hard-boiled egg. With french fries. Yep. I ate it. TWICE. In one day. (I didn't intend to, life just happens... chivitos happen.)
-- I spent my days purusing the historical district, making friends with old ladies in museums, hanging out in tea houses, and the night, listening to old uruguayan men in a rock band and then sitting on the water under a full moon enjoying silence and stars...

Picturesque? Yes. Will it get me through the next three weeks of hell (=UBA finals)? I sure hope so. Do I want to return someday? Heck yes. With Omar.