cultura

wow, texans are really big and speak with a thick, sugar-coated accent.

everything is big and spacious, including maybe, the distance between people.

everything is so new and plastic, big and rubber, bright and shiny.

everyone is racing against time, there but not there, big smiles but vacuous eyes, saying hello with a look towards good-bye.

culture shock is still reverberating but i think i am too busy to catch everything.

perhaps after the dust settles, i'll come to see it all a bit more clearly.

time to say goodbye

i think i can only understand half of what this year has been.

perhaps the second half will come later.

ha estado realmente great.

últimos dias

the thing about living in a city that pulsates with so much culture & creativity (what's better--there's no deluded self-importance about it) is that afterwards, i think everything will dim in comparison.

the lush, hilly, tree-canopied parks bestrewn with elegant sculptures will make even central park look plain and blocky. furniture design stores filled with tatooed and mohawked artists who made it all by hand will unmask the shoddy warehouse that is ikea. the humble grocers and fruit stands will leave all the naturalness of trader joe's and whole foods strikingly unnatural. elaborate italian and french architecture that resides in even the poorest ghettoes will make even the fancy mansions of beverly hills seems strangely cookie-cutter. the warm, friendly kisses on the cheek will make the perfunctory handshake and awkward hugs seem cold and distant.

hm.

but maybe some good tex-mex, vietnamese pho, korean bulgolgi and indian saag paneer will help make up for all of that.

anyway, so i've done some hard thinking and come up with a list of the top 3 things i will miss the most:

the cafes, the cafes and the cafes.

i hope i can bring back some essence of buenos aires with me; it is an enchanting city with charming people. if nothing else i hope to maintain some of it in the mate and argentine accent i bring back with me (probably in my broken english now too).

i'll likely be working up until my last day (maybe even my last hours) in ba, but we can all shake our fingers at hospital bureaucracy and say, mala ! mala !

ah well, in some ways that's the best way to leave a place--as if you're not really leaving at all.

despedidas

i think i've had too many good-bye dinners for my age.

a friend once told me, "it's always easier to be the one leaving than the one left behind." true words probably; but there's still something unnatural about linking and unlinking yourself repeatedly.

at the end of the day, it's perhaps only human to prefer relationships that go far and reach deep. i always assume that i really WILL see the people i hope to see again. but time is the test and has the ultimate say in that.

anyway after this year, i'm going to try to go sans despedidas (for me) for two years straight.

observación

algunos observaciones:

1. everyone smokes in ba, especially women. not infrequently do i find myself a-waft in second-hand carcinogens from the lady walking in front of me, the man with ten dogs passing by and the grandma stepping out on her porch to blow some smoke at me, just in case i hadn't gotten my share. wasn't there some peanuts or winnie the pooh character who was always enshrouded in a cloud of smoke? haha. that's me in buenos aires.

2. i probably won't miss the comments that go streaming by as i walk to work. while i'm told it's much worse in other latin american countries, life would be easier sans this running commentary. though, on the other hand, i have to say i'm pretty surprised at the random asian language greetings i've heard: konnichiwa ! or ni hen piao liang ! that always makes me shake my head and laugh.

3. ba is kind of a time warp. 50s cars, 60s racial tension, 70s hippies, 80s music, 90s mohawks and antiques that span the past century. add in the seasonal differences from being in the southern hemisphere and i've often found myself in a loopty loop. one thing i'll really miss is the hundreds of small bakeries, cafes and just in general, small businesses. reminds me of life pre-costco, target, chilis and starbucks.

4. i read recently that argentina has one of the world's highest rates of anorexia, second only to japan. combine that with the high rates of plastic surgery among women, young and old, and i have this working conclusion that cultures prone to be more machísimo (e.g., s america, korea and japan) have more extreme versions of women as well, as measured by rates of plastic surgery and eating disorders. perhaps what results in patriarchal cultures is not a big, dominating man and small, submissive woman; it's just more an extreme version of both. perhaps that's why some patriarchal cultures can be the most matriarchal too. it's funny. sometimes i think that the ideal of beauty in latin america is this caricatured version of a european woman--it's like compounding racism and male chauvinism into one and being left with something highly unnatural.

5. smoking and etc aside, i am quite happy here. in general, there is this human-ness that i sometimes feel is lost back in the states. relationships seem more natural, go a bit deeper, and are perhaps longer-lasting.

voy a escribir algo en español.

es cierto que hay una cierta manera de la vida--algo más relajada y más lento que los otros países. pero hay que incorporar las cosas en total--en general, es un país donde se disfrutan cada día, cada cena, cada café, cada conversación con cada persona. hay un cierto sentido de ser humano que ya está perdido en otros comunidades. en las investigaciónes es evidente también--hay más colaboración y todos quieren ayudar a los otros--en lugar de un desafio o una lucha.

pero, no sé. me parece que la gente también es insatisfecho. de un lado, argentina es un país en desarollo y le gustaría ser como europa o las ciudades grandes de los estados unidos. pero de otro lado, los países desarollados son menos felices, me parece. leí reciénte, un artículo que describió cuándo no tenemos nuestros necesidades fundamentales, sí, hay menos felicidad. pero, después de ya tenés un lugar para dormir, comida en tú estómago, agua, las cosas más básicas, no hay más felicidad con respeto a la cantidad de plata o recursos vos tenés. en algunos casos, actualmente hay menos felicidad.

quizás la gente siempre sea insatisfecho. quizás sea algo en la naturaleza humana--querer más y mejorarse sus situaciónes. pero los países desarollados no son satisfechos tampoco. el tema de países en desarollo y países desarollados es complejo para mí.

bueno. basta ya con las reflexiones y el roto castellano :]

rotundo

and the countdown begins.

one day i'm sure i'll wonder back about my time here, so i've decided to start writing some reflections and posting pictures from daily life. perhaps, you might say, what this blog was supposed to be from the beginning...


today we begin with lots of pictures. i will really miss all of the fruit stands.



fresh veggies too. i eat so much arugula and exotic squash, i sometimes wonder if living in a developing country has turned me into a yuppie.



buenísimo ! i once met some wine photographer and bored him to tears about how beautiful i think the fruit stands are.



the only times i've ever feared for my life here in buenos aires were when 1) someone got shot down the street and 2) i'm on my morning commute. in a country whose population density ranks 203 of 238, you would think that some space to breathe on the subway would be ok? no.

seriously though, china's 1.3 billion on its subway ain't got nothin' on buenos aires. people used to describe japan or india. now i understand. it doesn't quite make sense in argentina, but oh well.



sometimes ba reminds me of ny.



of course, fruits and veggies are only precursors to the main entrees :]



i work a lot out here. not in any stressed out way; it's just what i'm here to do. it helps that i have good coworkers and colleagues. i've also given a lot of presentations in my broken spanish. you would think they would learn to ask me to stop after the first time haha.



blue skies and autumn in march.




ok hm, i'll write some reflections next time.

mamí y papí

as mother's day draws near, an ode to the family:

my father is the most patient person in the world. i scream, i yell, i cry. he says, be patient. endure. and ultimately, he's always right.

my mother is less easily classified. nevertheless, i reflect on something from before:

if my dad is a rock, my mom is like water. flowing along, she has wandered through life. naturally intelligent, she drifted into graduate school to study chemistry and in an undisciplined, effortless way, did her thing and went on. like a peaceful child, she is the formless liquid that placidly takes the shape of its container, yet other times clinging to dryness like a wet cloth, her anger could bubble up into raging and turblent tides. unconfined to external norms and standards, unable to be categorized, she fits no parental prototype. but as a river flowing into an endless ocean, she surpasses the boundaries of human compassion and selfishness in such a natural way, completely regardless of others' opinions. i would say i see humanity in its most utter and natural form in my mother.

ok. so i miss my family.

they are the only people who could keep me from doing work overseas. i would don the 9 to 5 hat and let my life dissolve away into a forgotten quotidian fizzle just to have more time with them.

OR i will trick them into traveling with me. muahahahaha.

anyway i love old photos.