Nuttier than a fruitcake

Hey porteños - could you please stop making me feel like a raving lunatic when I tell you that I chose to live in Argentina for the simple reason that I like it here?
Let me backtrack a little. I've had so, so many versions of this interaction:
Argentine: So you're on vacation here? Or you're studying?
Me: No, actually, living and working.
Argentine: Oh, I see, you fell in love with an Argentine and came here to be with him.
Me: No... well, not yet anyway...
Argentine: Why then?
Me: Because... I like it here?
Argentine: Why?
Me: Um... the city, the people, the culture, the language, the nightlife, I always wanted to live abroad, I don't know...
Argentine: Out of all the countries in the world you chose Argentina? Are you CRAZY?
(Actually, I'm really not making that last line up. It's word for word from a conversation I had with a student of mine.)
Okay, I know Argentina has problems, that become more and more apparent the longer I stay and the more I see. But doesn't every country? (Especially the good old US of A?)
And where is the stereotypical Argentine arrogance that you always hear about? Is it really sooo crazy that someone would want to live here just for the sake of living here? Dale, porteños, stop looking at me like I lost my marbles. I just like it here.

And here's something else I like, a quote from Welcome to the World, Baby Girl by Fannie Flagg:

"Poor little old human beings- they're jerked into this world without having any idea where they came from or what it is they are supposed to do, or how long they have to do it in. Or where they are gonna wind up after that. But bless their hearts, most of them wake up every morning and keep on trying to make some sense out of it. Why, you can't help but love them, can you? I just wonder why more of them aren't as crazy as betsy bugs..."

Politics Shmolitics

Can you totally hear the duran duran when you look at this photo? Yes, it's adorable Barack Obama and his high school basketball team. Although, he's way not as cute as John Edwards. Le sigh.
But I digress. I just read one of the most heinous & silly articles ever - Obama: First Female President? by Martin Linsky, who apparently is a faculty member at Harvard. Which just went down a few points in my opinion.
What does Mr. Linsky say?
That Hillary is acting the masculine role because she portrays herself as an "experienced realist," while Barack is not afraid to show the (feminine?) characteristics of optimism, being unsure of himself and admitting his mistakes, and wanting to talk about problems.
Whatever, read the article, see what you think. But let me say that I am a women's studies major, and we don't like people who obviously know nothing about gender trying to gloss over such a complicated topic.
A quick google search found that cutie pie John Edwards was also called The First Woman President in the NY Sun. Because he cares about freedom of choice.
I guess it's a cute tagline for these scholars & journalists, but seriously? It's ignorant and offensive in sooo many ways.

So, blah blah blah, enough politics.

Still bored & looking for an online timesuck? Read this, oh and in case you were wondering, I'm a Hillary girl. And not just cuz we have the same birthday.

The other city that never sleeps

What a nice BA weekend.

Kicked off el finde on Friday with a night of bar-hopping in Palermo Hollywood... first Unico (Honduras y Fitz Roy) and then Congo (Honduras 5329, right next door to Kika.) Unico was quite nice, a big crowd on the sidewalk outside sipping their drinks, which are reasonably priced for that part of Palermo. Very friendly bartenders (hey! high five!) and despite the chaotic and packed bar, we got our sugary caipirinhas in under 5 minutes. Congo was fun as well but there was a (big) cover to get in, something I never approve of in bars, and some very aggressive mosquitos and men on the leafy back patio. So, we didn't do too much hopping actually, just two bars, and then came home for some highly intellectual and experimental cooking efforts, trying to create suitable drunk munchies from the contents of our overly healthy kitchen. Too many vegetables. Not enough cheese. But it worked out.

Last night I went to a party thrown by César and the kids at Argentina's Travel Guide. It was at a lovely house in Martinez and included all the elements of a good party - gorgeous Argentines, rowdy Yanquis, choripán, champagne, fernet with coke, and jumping into a swimming pool fully clothed. Well, maybe not fully clothed.

Sunday was soaking up the sun and browsing overpriced jewelry & crafts in Recoleta and then the latest episode of Project Runway on youtube.

Tomorrow it'll be back to business English (customer service: let's read this article on outsourcing) and TOEFL/IELTS prep, including some practice listening sections which I'm pretty sure are designed to drive the teacher absolutely crazy ("Paul, are you taking Intermediate French?" "No, Mary, I'm taking Intermediate Spanish." "Really? Intermediate Spanish, not Intermediate French?" "Yes, I'm not taking Intermediate French, I'm taking Intermediate Spanish.")

Hot. Can't wait for next weekend.

¡Feliz dia de los enamorados!

Happy V day, everyone! To steal a line from Carrie Bradshaw, the city is my date this Valentine's. And it's just lovely.

Money Money Money

First, go to Los Alfajores' Myspace and listen to Money is Stupid while you're reading this.
Second, if you're reading this from Argentina, you already know all about it and probably don't want to be reminded.*

For everyone else - all of a sudden it seems like all I talk/think/worry about is money. It's really damn expensive to live in Buenos Aires, especially when you are paying rent prices designed (with love from our landlords) especially for us foreigners. Who in theory have loads of dollars/euros/pounds in the bank. Well, not those of us who teach English. Anyway...

The point is, I'm so sick of talking and thinking about money all the time, but it keeps coming up. Today I had a break between classes and went to go lie on the grass in lovely Plaza San Martín in Retiro. I decided to buy a magazine on the way. Well, I ended up buying Vogue Latinoamérica, but not because I was being good and trying to practice my Spanish reading skills. I bought it because English Vogue was... drumroll please... 69 pesos (over $20 USD.) (The Vogue I bought was 10 pesos.) Well, some economists may measure how the economy is going based on staples like milk, bread, and eggs, but I'm judging based on Vogue. When I was here in March of last year, I bought Vogue in English for 15 pesos. Which brings us to...

Inflation.
The government says the inflation rate is something like 8 to 10%. My highly scientific research that is based on actually living in Buenos Aires and functioning as a person here, buying groceries, etc., tells me that this official inflation rate is total bullshit. The actual inflation rate is supposedly closer to 20%.

In certain parts of Buenos Aires, the parts that are all most tourists ever see, it's easy to forget where you are. With the stylish, cultured, well-educated people, European architecture and avenues, overt leisure (people sitting in cafes all day, rush hour around 10 am in the morning), etc., etc., you forget about the recent and not-so-recent history of instability and lack of stable economic infrastructure, the sense that crises are always just around the corner. But as my students remind me all the time, this is Argentina. There's still a lot of fallout from the 2001 crash and the horrible damage that Menem did to the country.

I don't know that much about it so I'll shut up at this point, but it's enough to say that I am having a hard time keeping my head above water financially. It's not like my life is about to turn into a Dorothea Lange photo shoot, but it's not easy. And if it's hard for me, with this being my cute little 'escaping the USA idealistic twenty-something expat' social experiment, having lived here for all of 5 months, what must it be like for the real residents of the city?

*The picture on the left was not taken by me - I don't have that much money! It also isn't the current Argentine currency.

¿Estás aburrido?

My new favorite thing to read online is New York Magazine's fashion blog The Cut, especially the girls who write 'New York Fugging City.' Classier than Perez, more cheerful than BBC news, it's the perfect way to kill time between classes or while waiting for it to be late enough to go out by Argie coolness standards.

*An interest in fashion/celebrities/new york/cattiness is recommended to enjoy this blog.

**Picture to the right - Carolina Herrera show

What a Super Tuesday

Voting makes you sexy, so go vote in the California Primary biotches! It's important! It's also Mardi Gras and almost Chinese New Year so go vote and then celebrate with beer and chinese food.

Besos a todos!

Exhaustion/ Estoy loca?

I got into a really interesting conversation with one of my students last night. She was saying that she's always confused by the young people from the United States she meets living in Buenos Aires - we always say we came here because we love the country, the culture, we wanted to live abroad, go to new places and see new things, etc. She said it's perplexing to her for two reasons, first because in Argentina it is very rare for people to go so far from their families and friends on a whim, and second, because while a lot of Argentines are interested in going to Western Europe or the United States, they mostly want to go for work. Sure, an interest in the culture and being adventurous comes into it, but it isn't usually their only motivation. She also brought up the economics of it - while people from Argentina may leave the country to make more money, we inevitably come to Argentina to make less money (if you come to teach English.) Much, much less.
This was the first week I had a full schedule (20 hours of teaching.) That doesn't sound like a lot but it is seriously exhausting. Like, too tired to do anything but crawl into bed at the end of the day exhausting. Because for every hour of class you also have prep time and commute time, so it ends up being a full day from about 10 am to 8 or 9 pm. The time spent with students is, of course, the best. But it's an exhausting job. It's not a spacing out in front of your computer type of job - you have to be engaging and energetic with your students and you're constantly thinking - what's the difference between during and while? Why do we say it that way? That's wrong, but why is it wrong? And unlike 9 to 5 jobs at home, you don't get paid for every hour you work.
So am I totally crazy? Making myself really, legitimately poor for the first time in my life? To live as far as possible from everything that's familiar?
Well. Looking at numbers it doesn't make sense to be here, but I've always hated math.
So for now, I'll keep being one of the crazy young idealistic Yanquis who comes here because of esoteric ideas about seeing the world and an even stronger fear of the restlessness and eventual settling that comes with staying at home.

And let me tell you, it's all worth it for one of my students who wrote an entire essay using the word "younglings" in place of the word "youth."