Saturday, May 29, 2010

Barely Holden On

Homesickness. It manifests itself in dissatisfaction with my Starbucks order. My latte isn’t hot enough to burn my tongue – a sure thing in the USA. I don’t even like burning my tongue; it’s a lousy feeling. Yet here I am, with a reasonably temperatured coffee beverage – homesick as hell. I’m not kidding.

Why do I even go to Starbucks? I worked for one week at Sbux Corporate in Seattle and I quit. People say the coffee is lousy too. What really knocks me out is how comforting the logo is. That green circle, with the mermaid who smiles at me as if to say, ‘its ok, you’re not alone, I’m here too.” That kills me.

See that’s the worst part about being homesick. Feeling alone. The thing is, I’m not usually alone when I feel alone. It’s when I’m at a dinner party but I can’t understand a single word. It’s when I’m walking down a crowded street knowing I’ll never see a familiar face. Its when I’m curled up in an overstuffed generic chair at Starbucks, contemplating taking back my drink and asking them to heat it up. I’m not kidding, I really just might!

I didn’t expect moving abroad to be easy, but until now, it had been. But now its winter, I’m underpaid and overworked, my health is suffering and all my friends are going back home. I can’t help but think about the things I’m missing – my little sister’s high school graduation, hot Boise summers, Seattle sunsets…my friends…my family …

I’m blue as hell if you really want to know. Why do I drink lattes anyway?

Friday, May 28, 2010

Adventures with Birthday Cake

I asked my friend Emily for advice about what to get my boyfriend for his birthday. Birthday gifts can be stressful in new relationships. You don’t want a gift that expresses an inappropriate amount of sentimentality, and adding a cultural division to the equation leaves one with a tense and complicated situation. Obviously, I was stressin.

Mi amiga Emily has been in Argentina for a few years and also has a local boyfriend, so who better to ask for advice?

Vina: What should I get him? How do birthdays even work in this country?

Emily: ‘oh, on my boyfriend’s birthday, I make him a cake. Here it’s the duty of the girlfriend to provide the cake for the birthday party.”

(I was a little shocked because this was the first that I had heard about it!)

Emily: “Yeah, if you don’t bring one, your boyfriend won’t say anything of course, but the other guests will think you’re lay or something.”

So later I confronted Lucas about my newly acquired information.

Vina: “A friend from work told me that it’s the girlfriends job to bring a cake to the birthday party.”

Lucas: “Si Vivi, ees normal here.”

Vina: “So were you expecting me to bring a cake to your party?’

Lucas: ‘Si.”

Vina: “Well were you going to tell me?!”

Lucas laughed….”no.”

So now that I knew I had to make a cake, I just had to decide what kind. Lucas suggested chocolate banana with dulce de leche, peaches and whipped cream. I couldn’t think of anything more disgusting, but I should have expected as much from the boy who puts four packets of sugar in his coffee.

So I decided on a banana chocolate chip three-layer cake with dulce de leche filling. I covered the outside with melted chocolate. Inspiration struck and I decorated the top with chocolate dipped mandarin orange slices and cinnamon. The end result was far more beautiful than expected and very well received at the birthday party. They even applauded for me! Maybe I have a future in baking…

Thursday, May 27, 2010


Buenos Aires is home to an impressively large Jewish population. It is a rare day when you don’t encounter a yamaka or two. So large in fact is this Jewish presence that specialized businesses have developed, such as a Kosher McDonalds. I know, that sounds like an oxymoron, right?

I hadn’t had fast food for a very long time (because its evil) I did make one exception when my little brother took me to Chick-fil-A on my birthday. It was my last meal in the United States before I departed for Argentina, and I had never been to Chick-Fil-A before. A cultural experience and a lovely send off made for a very nice birthday indeed. (thanks Petey!)

Anyway, my friend Sarah and I were very curious about the kosher golden arches, so we decided to try it for ourselves to see what it was all about. The other patrons while we visited included small kids wearing school uniforms with their parents, and a hippy that invited us to a concert.

The menu seemed pretty basic. No cheeseburgers or milkshakes, since mixing meat and dairy is a kosher no-no. We ordered some hamburgers and fries. All in all the food was lackluster, as any fast food would be to a true foodie. I’ve heard rumors that the hamburger meat is of more respectable quality here in Argentina, but I was not the best candidate to judge that. Kosher McyD’s was an interesting cultural experience, as well as a reminder of why I prefer my food to be slow.

Ceci n'est pas histoire de l'art.

Finally I had the chance to employ my academic major for work today! Until this point I had been unable to capitalize on my academic specialization. Most days it feels like I’m retaining a fairly useless (but very expensive) amount of information.

While Art History rarely proves to be useful on a daily basis – Anthropology on the other hand has served to make me hyper conscious of every cultural difference that I encounter on a daily basis..

Well finally I found a way to incorporate my first true love, Art History, into my daily life as well. One of my more advanced students is an art enthusiast. I knew immediately that we were kindred spirits when I saw the Matisse posters displayed in his office, but when he told me that his favorite artist was 20th century concrete surrealist master Rene Magritte…well, that’s when I really got excited.

So today I taught a class on a subject which I have taken many a class. And yes, I obviously had to concentrate more on the phrasal verbs and passive voice of the article, than the philosophical themes of Magritte’s always surprising imagery….but all in all, a very satisfying class for the teacher (and teacher hopes, the student).

I’m sure Magritte, who’s paintings make many statements about the role of language and its many deficiencies, would have approved.

Here is the article in case you really have nothing better to do: