I'm Not Adventurous: Finding Myself in Argentina

A couple days ago I got a new roommate in my host parents house (she’s totally great!) and we were just talking a little bit about ourselves and our lives back home and I said, “I’m not really adventurous.” It wasn’t until I said that out loud, in a foreign country that I realized how silly I sounded! Turns out, all these things I thought I wasn’t or couldn’t do are completely incorrect. I’ve always said, I’m not adventurous, I can’t learn another language, I’m scared of heights and daredevil type things. All my life those things have generally been true. I’ve stayed close to home and always been the “that looks like a bad idea” friend, until now.

Source: Pinterest

Mistake #1: I’m not Adventurous

HELLO, I’m 5,000 miles from home in a country where I don’t really speak the language living with strangers for 4 months. That is quite a leap from small town country girl. It pretty cool to see everyone pinning and tweeting about how it’s on their bucket list to do something crazy and I’ve done it!

Mistake #2: I can’t learn another language

I have always been convinced that I am language challenged. After years of Spanish classes making absolutely zero progress in my knowledge of the language I was convinced that my brain just didn’t work that way. Argentina was my last ditch effort to learn. Someday’s I say I don’t really know Spanish I’m pretty bad at it, but then I realize that I carry on full conversations with strangers all the time here. When I think about it I actually know a lot more than I first did when I got here 2 months ago and that’s pretty incredible.

Mistake #3: I’m scared of heights and daredevil activities

I have a pretty big fear of heights and a lot of things involve heights or seemingly less than safe and secure situations. But, that didn’t stop me from climbing a mountain in the Andes with my friends, on our own, no tour guide needed. Sure my heart skipped several beats when I would look down over the side of our roughly foot wide path, but it was exhilarating. I conquered a fear I’ve been carrying for most of my life! Flying probably counts on that also.

These past 2 months abroad have changed me and taught me so much about myself I would need a book to explain it all to you. It’s been an incredible journey. I’ve transformed from a shy, Midwestern girl to someone that can talk to virtually anyone and do anything on my own with confidence in English or in Spanish.

But I think the most important thing I’ve learned is to not hold myself back by saying what I’m not or what I can’t do. Because as it turns out I usually can and am! I’m sure I’m not the only person that’s thought these things so I hope this inspires you to test your own limits!

Besos, 

Hayley

PS. I have new articles up at Travel Go Girl and a guest post at Finding My Virginity!

The Other Buenos Aires: My First Experience with Real Poverty

One of the most interesting parts about living in Argentina for four months is experiencing the city like a true resident. Through discussions with my family, watching the news (albeit in espanol so my host mom has to help me out sometimes understanding), and just generally being around the city, you become intimately familiar with all of its good and bad traits.

I have been lucky enough to have host parents that are willing to spend a lot of time (hours sometimes!) discussing social, political, and economic issues in Argentina with me very openly. One that has really struck me is the poverty in Buenos Aires.

Before coming here I had never seen real poverty before. I had driven past "rough" areas of Kansas City before and thought that, that was my enlightening experience. But living on Prospect or Paeso in Kansas City is like a stay at the Marriott compared to the slums of Buenos Aires. Thinking that I could even think those KC neighborhoods were scary is laughable at this point. Places here don't even scary or intimidate me. They just make me want to cry.

One neighborhood that I've seen the outside of personally, in Villa 31, a shanty town home to about 30,000 people. An entrance into the "city" is very near to the subway stop that we get off to go to the bus station, train station, and the immigrations office, so it's literally unavoidable for most students in Buenos Aires. The first time I saw it I felt like it was a movie set. Like it couldn't possibly be a real place that people ACTUALLY lived in.

Essentially the view I had, though I didn't bring out my camera
for obvious reasons.
 Source

The dirt path, not even a road, that lead into the neighborhood was littered with trash and there were people peddling socks and klennex's to the people passing by. Two dogs were eating out of what looked like a McDonald's wrapper while another was just laying in the sun. The houses are unfinished, as in they are nothing more than bricks stacked to create a windowless, doorless, structure. From what I've learned they also don't have running water, electricity, or plumbing. This is a pretty shocking sight compared to the extremely wealthy neighborhood just across the street.

What hurts me the most though is the kids that hang out near the steps of the subway or ride the line begging for money. I've never seen a child that looked like that in real life before, filthy, ripped clothes, dirty matted hair, and hands that sorely need to be washed. The usually have a line that they continually repeat as they beg you for money. Most people though don't give them anything, because you know that the money is undoubtedly going to the parents that clearly have something else to do besides care for their child.

People actually live like this.
Source

I once saw a little girl that was not from the slums on the subway give a girl that was begging a postcard with a picture of Violetta (like an Argentina Hannah Montana or Lizzie Mcguire). The girl was so excited, she was jumping around and showing it to everyone else riding the subway. It was probably the most heartbreaking and heartwarming moment of my life.

A part of me wants so badly to go inside neighborhoods like this, simply because I want to experience it more than just a glimpse down the alley leading inside. I want so badly to talk to these people, to know what a normal day in their life is like. But the fact that my parents would absolutely kill me and that I'm a a female, dressed much to nicely holds me back. I can't even take a picture because pulling out an iphone or fancy camera would just be like asking to be robbed.

Sometimes I hate being a white, female as stupid as that sounds. It's so restricting in terms of experiencing and understanding anyone outside of my social class. If I was a boy I would be much more capable of going into places like that. If I was more darkly complected (like the illegal immigrants from Bolivia and Paraguay that make up most of the shantytown populations) I would be able to slip by unnoticed possibly.

At the same time it reminds me of how lucky we are in the United States. Not only do I have my own nice car, I have a house that is furnished, I have access to virtually anything I could ever want. I've never had to spend a day with an empty stomach or without shoes. In the US for the most part even people under the poverty line have access to things that they need like homes, cars, cell phones, etc. The concept of poor is so subjective. Poor in the United States could easily pass as middle class in Argentina.

Most days Argentina is so similar to the United States, it's for the most part a developed 1st world country and then you come upon places like that and realize how far away from home you really are. Just the experience of things beautiful and terrible that most of my friends and family back home will never see makes this whole trip entirely worth it.



Besos,
Hayley

PS. It's EXTREMELY hard to find places to volunteer in Buenos Aires. This is due to lack of organization, such as places being listed online and also that most volunteer opportunities are through programs that you have to pay for to come to Argentina to volunteer. Also, my not so fluent Spanish doesn't help. So unfortunately, it's not looking like I'm going to be able to find any real way to help people in areas like that. Though my friends and I will continue to look!

Feeling the Homesickness

Today marks the 6th week since I've left home, crazy to think that I've been here for a month and a half already. This realization is finding me with mixed emotions about how I feel about the rest of my 2.5 months I have left. As a general rule, I've always wanted to be very honest in writing about my experiences so I'll just put it out there. I could go home right now and that would be okay. I could pack my bags and say chau to Argentina with minimal regret.

But the thing is, I can't. I'm here for better or for worst till November. The reason I'm feeling so homesick I think has nothing to do with Argentina being bad. I really do enjoy it here and I love all the people I've met. Argentina is a seriously interesting country, both historically and culturally. The thing is that I just really miss my family, a lot.

Charley and I look like twins!

I think it's really hard for anyone else to understand the kind of bond we all have, especially with Aubrey and Charley. All of the other students here miss their families too, I'm sure. But for me their more than just my family, they're my very best friends. I need my relationship and connection with them like I need oxygen to breathe. So not only am I separated from my brother and sisters, but from my closest friends.

I'm almost positive that what's brought all of this on is that, Aubrey had her ultrasound and found out she's having a baby girl!!! (Super excited about that.) This is one of those life events that I feel like I should be there for. My best friend is pregnant and I'm missing it! Luckily I'll be back home in plenty of time for the baby to get their (thank God!).

She did a great job of hiding her belly in this!

I guess part of my problem is also that I spent so much time the past couple of years wanting to escape and go somewhere exciting and new. But what I've found is that I love home so much more than I knew. I love Missouri and cows and squirrels and the fact that I know most everyone. I love that people understand me and that home is only a short drive away. I spent so much time wanting to be somewhere else, that I didn't appreciate where I was.

Traveling is always talked about as one great big, incredible adventure, which it is, don't get me wrong. But, on the other hand, no amount of beautiful sights can replace how wonderful it is to see my whole family standing around the kitchen talking too loudly. I think I thought that I was going to be the kind of person that would want to live abroad for years, returning home occasionally for holidays and visits. But I don't think I want to do that. I don't want to miss out on my niece growing up and my brother starting college and Emy's wonderful moments.

I do want to travel. I want to see the world and even more places. But I want to do it with people that I love and with a home in sight. So what if I'm not as adventurous and crazy as I thought, I have something better, people that I can love.

One of the girls here gave me some really great advice about homesickness that I think really applies right now. She told me that no matter where you go and what you do, home will always be the same. The world may change, but your family will always be there when you get back. That's really what's going to get me through this, that my family is going to be there when I get back!

So now that I've had my moment of moping I'm going to go back to having an amazing time here!


Besos,
Hayley

Why I really came to Argentina, the food.

I'm only half joking about coming to Argentine for the food. I'm a steak girl and there is no place better to enjoy that in the beef capital of the world. But we actually eat a whole lot more than just beef, though it's pretty common for meals.

Tonight, I had my first meal here that I just didn't like. Which is pretty good considering I've been here for almost 6 weeks (that's crazy to think about). It was eggplant milanese, which is basically breaded eggplant. I've never had eggplant before and turns out I'm not really a fan of it.

I was kinda poking around it on my plate and when my host mom asked if I liked it she instantly knew I was lying. Luckily, she was really understanding about me not liking it and made me some eggs and toast instead. It's so nice that we're comfortable enough that it's not rude for me to say what I like and don't like, because otherwise I would probably be pretty hungry right now!

I've gotten quite a few questions from people about what I eat here. Personally, I think you all have been watching too much Travel Channel because I have yet to encounter any llama brains or livers. In fact, I haven't seen anything here that I wouldn't be able to buy at home really, with the exception of mate but that's a whole other story. So in light of that I thought I would share what some common meals here are. They're basically the same ingredients as ours, just mixed in different ways.

• Milanese: This is a staple in my house and the ultimate safe move in restaurants. You just can't go wrong with milanese. I probably eat this 3 times a week. It's essentially just beef or chicken very thinly sliced and breaded. We eat it with lemon juice or sometimes eggs on top.

• Empanadas: This is probably the most widely eaten food here in Argentina. You can find empanadas pretty much anywhere and they're insanely cheap. Like I'm talking $5AR or $6AR which is less than a $1USD. So clearly us college students eat these constantly. They are typically filled with carne (ground beef), queso (cheese), or jamon y queso (ham and cheese). You can buy them from vendors on the street, a bakery, or virtually an restaurant. 

• Pasta con Crema: We eat a lot of pasta here, the only twist is the sauce. Instead of our typically thick and chunky (sorry Katie) ragu it's a soupy tomato sauce. Usually, you will also pour liquid cream on it also to make a kind of alfredo sauce. It's pretty similar to what we eat in the US, but not quite the same. 

• Panqueques con Dulce de Leche: This is eaten as a desert and it very thin pancakes, basically crepes covered in dulce de leche (Argentina's version of very sweet peanut butter, caramel) and then rolled and sprinkled with sugar. It's pretty fantastic though it is so sugary it will almost literally make your teeth hurt. Almost all desert involves dulce de leche here and I'm not complaining!

• Calabaza: This is just the Spanish word for pumpkin, but they eat it constantly here. Usually baked and mashed. It tastes a lot like sweet potatoes. At first I thought it was kind strange to eat pumpkin but I've grown to really like it. 

Those are just a few of the most common things I've eaten here and definitely not all. In general if you want to know what Argentine food is like, it's never spicy, usually involves massive amounts of cheese and sugar, and is never as greasy as American food. It's also almost always made from scratch or fresh because of the easy accessibility of fresh ingredients and the high price of pre-packaged meals and food items. 

While it definitely seems to me that, in general, there are much fewer obsess people here, it doesn't seem like they are at all concerned about health or weight. Diet soda isn't a thing here. In fact diet or fat-free or reduced fat anything is a pretty rare sight. 

I think the difference is that people eat here. They eat large meals at regularly scheduled times and don't have junk food. Because they always know what time the next meal is it seems to be much better planned for it to be home cooked. Which I think makes a huge difference. It's just interesting to see a culture that isn't obsessed with calorie counting and dieting and exercise. 

Besos, 

Hayley

Mendoza Misadventure: Day 3

Because so many things happened during the Mendoza trip that I want to talk about I'm breaking it up into a three part series. Check out Day 1 and Day 2! 

For our final adventure in Mendoza, we just absolutely had to go horseback riding in the Andes. Through our hostel, we booked an excursion with Los Pingos, a ranch that offered a three-hour horseback tour in the mountains and then an asado (Argentine BBQ) dinner with plenty of wine. To anyone going to Mendoza, I would definitely recommend this, but only if you aren't faint of heart. 

Because our excursion didn't start till 4PM we decided to go see some statues in one of the large parks in Mendoza. Turns out that there was also a huge celebration for Dios de los Ninos going on in the park at the same time. It's basically a celebration of children, hence the name meaning Day of the Children. There were kids and their families everywhere. 

Part of the Dios de los Ninos celebration.

This lead to us starting an impromptu soccer game with some of the older kids. It was incredibly fun and I think that any study abroad student would tell you that playing the sport that defines their culture, with locals is a pretty great experience. We never ended up making it to the statues. 

The most interesting part about the horse ride was that unlike in the United States, they just put you on a horse, experienced or not, and let you go. This lead to some pretty confused participants desperately trying to do what they had seen in the movies to make their horse go. Also, this is why I wouldn't recommend it for anyone with a fear of horses because yours may very well end up running. 

Luna stuck close to her friend Pecky

My horse's name was Luna and at first she didn't seem to want to behave. But after about 5 minutes, she seemed to realize that I had some idea that I knew what I was doing (and I should, after all, those years of riding lessons, thanks, Mom and Dad). 

Unfortunately for some other students their horses caught on really fast that they had no clue what was going on and they kind of did their own thing, unaware of the riders desire to follow the group. 

After a three-hour hour ride, ending in a full-on sprint of most of the horses riders still in tow, we got to sit down to the best meal I've had yet in Argentina. Basically, you eat bread, drink red wine, and eat steak. I think I was in my own personal heaven. 

When the meal was done one of the guachos (Argentine term for a cowboy) serenaded the group in both Espanol and Ingles. By this point the red wine had been flowing quite freely, which seemed to inspire us with the courage to use or Spanish speaking skills. Though it was probably very rough I attempted to speak in Spanish the whole rest of the night, as did all of my friends. 

Some of the girls!

Unfortunately, I was commenting on how much I liked one of the guachos to my friend in Spanish and he definitely understood me. If I had said it in English I probably could have avoided the whole awkward situation. The worst part is that I'm thrilled that he actually understood my Spanish, which means I'm improving!

Overall, the whole day was amazing and an experience I don't think I will ever forget. Mendoza is and will probably always be, my own personal version of heaven. Despite all the mishaps I managed to have. What truly defines your study abroad is not where you go to live, but the things you choose to do with living there. And I couldn't be any happier with my choices. 


Besos, 
Hayley

Mendoza Misadventure: Day 2

Because so many things happened during the Mendoza trip that I want to talk about I'm breaking it up into a three part series. Check out Day 1 and come back to read Day 3!

After dealing with the loss of my stuff, I was ready to get this adventure started. Lucky for me, the group of friends I have found here in Argentina have a major interest in the great outdoors and figuring things out along the way. Mendoza City is about a hour or so from the actual mountains though you can clearly see them from where we were at. One of the biggest things we wanted to accomplish on this trip was going hiking in the Andes.

Asking around our hostel and the tourist information centers, we got a lot of confusing answers. Mostly, we were told we needed to hire a guide go through a packaged program to go hiking. But being the college students we are, we decided that there was no way we were going to pay money just to have someone lead us around.

Heading out!

So we set out on our own and caught a bus to the small town of Potrerillos, located at the base of the mountains. When the bus drops you off, there's not much there. A small information center, a food truck and some empty looking buildings. After speaking with the woman at the information center, we were off. At one point we even walked through someone's yard, they were kind enough to point us in the direction of a narrow walking path that lead up the side of one of the smaller mountains.

Expecting it to be cold, because it's winter here and mountains are generally cold anyway, we were all layered up with clothing. We quickly realized that the steep hike would keep up plenty warm and wound up with practically a second wardrobe in the backpacks we brought.

I'm going to be honest here, I didn't realize just quite how out of shape I was till my friends started deftly sprinting their way up the side of this mountain. I thought I was going to die, but that may have also been the two pairs of pants and 3 shirts and a winter coat I was wearing in probably 65 degree weather.

On top of the world!

The landscape once we reached the top was so beautiful I can't even being to explain it. It was what I imagine heaven must look like. We had a terrific view of the snow capped peaks, the small town, the bluest lake I've ever seen, and the Mendoza desert. And we were standing on the top of it, there is no greater feeling.

After spending about an hour taking pictures and enjoying the view we began to pick our way down the mountain side, during which we completely lost the path. We found our way down eventually and saw a giant storm drain pipe, that we of course had to climb into. Get ready, because this is where today's mishap comes in.

The pipe.

While climbing back down from the pipe, I didn't have the common sense to jump down and away from the rocks and instead slide down them on my butt. About two seconds after doing this, I realized something was terribly wrong. I had ripped nearly the whole seat of my yoga pants open and massively scratched myself.

This is all I could think about!

After laughing for about a good 10 minutes straight about the fact that I just destroyed the only pants I had left on this trip, I caught a break in my bad luck streak and was able to wear one of the extra pairs of pants we had in the backpacks. Thank God we had layered up so much otherwise I would have been in quite the pickle, in the middle of the Andes with shredded pants.

Can't believe I personally witnessed this!

The rest of the day went smooth and as we watched the sun slip down behind the mountains from the shore of a beautiful lake at the foot of the mountains we were near. As an added bonus to my day, I sat next to a very friendly Argentine named Pablo on the way home that made me converse in only Spanish for the entire hour bus ride. Though, it wasn't exactly easy it was easier than I thought it would be to carry on a conversation.

Today was again one of those things that I feel like had to happen to give me more writing material. Because seriously, who else would lose their clothes then rip their only pants while hiking?

Mendoza Misadventure: Day 1

Because so many things happened during the Mendoza trip that I want to talk about I'm breaking it up into a three part series. Be sure to check back for Day 2 and Day 3. 

The Mendoza trip was going to be our group's first big thing to do on our own. Instead of going through the travel agency at our school, we opted to do it ourselves which turned out to be much cheaper. The only problem with doing it on your own is, well that you have to do it on your own. And when it comes to doing things solo in Espanol for me, trouble always follows.

Due to our various different schedules I didn't go with the rest of the group to purchase my bus ticket. A couple days before we were supposed to leave I made the trek to the bus station and tried, unsuccessfully, to book a ticket for the same bus. I managed to get a ticket though for a bus about two hours earlier, so waiting around for them wouldn't be that big of a deal.

Nothing could ruin this.

After arriving at Mendoza, after the 16 hour bus ride I just waited around in the terminal reading a book on my Kindle. Right on time, at about 1PM my friends showed up and we had the joyful reunion that only white girls that haven't seen each other for 24 hours can have. In my excitement, I accidentally left my brand new Osprey backpack my parents had got for me sitting on the bench I was on. After walking for about 5 minutes, I suddenly realized that my backpack wasn't on my back!

The gang hanging out at the hostel, smoking hookah.

My friend Jess and I ran back to the bench I was sitting on only to find nothing there. I had that uneasy feeling that I wasn't going to see it again. We desperately asked in broken Spanish if anyone had seen a turquoise mochilla. In the end, we were directed down the police station to file a report. The officer spoke zero English and seemed really frustrated that we weren't understanding his rapid Spanish. He eventually got someone from the Mendoza tourist center on the phone that somewhat spoke English. They took my name and where I was staying but gave me little hope that my bag would be recovered.

Inside was everything I had brought for the trip, relatively new Chacos (fancy sandals), clothes, toiletries, and my extra money. I thought I was being smart dividing my money up in case I got pick pocketed. But it never occurred to me that I would lose my entire backpack! The bright side was that my passport, cards, glasses and cell phone were all in my purse which I still had. Those would be a lot my difficult to replace than some sandals and sweaters.

The outfit I rocked the whole weekend.

So with only the clothes on my back I decided I was going to still enjoy my weekend regardless! Between a trip to the supermarket and the generosity of my friends I was able to get what I needed to make it through the next 4 days. Granted, I wasn't exactly looking my best in, but that wasn't what mattered.

I had a moment at the hostel when I was about to call my mom and tell her what happened that I was about to cry. I wanted to feel sorry for myself for losing all my cool gear I had bought specifically for coming to Argentina. But that's when it dawned on me. I didn't need all that stuff to make this trip great. While a fancy daypack is more durable than a Walmart bag, it doesn't make my trip any better. I didn't need to be the fully outfitted backpacker to be a backpacker.

My mom also had some really great words of wisdom for me. She said that I'm a writer and what better material could I possibly have than my own misadventures. If my trip went perfectly as planned I would have nothing to write about!

As I've mentioned before, studying abroad continually teaches me new life lessons that I never excepted. In a way, losing my stuff is made the trip better. I've learned to care less about material possessions and more about enjoying the moment, even if it is in the same shirt I've been wearing for the past 3 days. I still strongly believe that everything happens for a reason and if nothing else, this whole mishap has given me some great writing material!