Back in the saddle

Well, it's winter here. Most people don't associate cold weather with Latin America, but let me tell you--it gets cold. The worst part isn't necessarily the actual temperature outside. It's that central heating is rare. Unlike places like Boston, going indoors to escape the cold usually isn't an option here. But on top of a lack of central heating, it actually IS cold outside. A few weeks ago, it snowed in Buenos Aires for the first time in about fifty years. Here in Montevideo, there is frost on the ground in the morning. "That never happens here," the Uruguayan sitting on the bus next to me said after seeing it. Global climate change rears its ugly head once again.

Fortunately for me, my apartment does have central heating, and is a great place to retreat from the cold. I have a wonderful view, a great roommate, and one of the cutest dogs I've seen. The little guy is really a wolf in sheep's clothing--he bites my leg every time I enter the apartment. His name is Tincho:



This is the desk where I do my work (it's not usually this messy):



My bedroom:



And the view from my bedroom:





In spite of the cold weather, I've been able to keep an active schedule here. On top of starting work at the elementary school and teachers' university, I visited Hugo Chavez, went to the horse races, and even made significant progress on my law school applications. But first things first: work is going very well.

At the elementary school, just when I was starting to miss my students and friends in Salto, I learned that my supervisor and one of my coworkers here both went to school with my supervisor in Salto. One difference between the two schools that I immediately noticed is that my students here speak English much better than my students in Salto. I was shocked when the third graders could form a complete question for me. In addition, my students here are in much better economic standing than those in Salto. In Salto, it was common for students to come to school with dirt covering their clothes and body. Here in the city that rarely happens. The affection the students show me, though, is one trait that both schools share. I think some of that has to do with the fact that I am now a de facto member of the fourth grade "men's" soccer team.

The thing I've found most difficult to grow accustomed to here in Montevideo is the distance to the teachers' university. Every Monday and Thursday I get up at 5am, catch a bus at 6, and arrive at the university an hour and a half later. Located to the east of Montevideo, in a seaside resort town called Atlantida, the university trains teachers of various disciplines, most of whom live on campus. My students, in general, possess a strong command of English, and are eager to practice with me and the other two Fulbrighters who work there with me. Fortunately, they are also eager to help me practice Spanish. Unlike Salto, it has been hard to spend time with the students outside class, simply due to the amount of time it takes to get there.

A couple weeks ago, the other Fulbrighters and I were invited to Maroñas, the horse track, to watch Open Hark run. Open Hark is owned by the brother-in-law of my supervisor at the university in Salto. Unfortunately, Open Hark didn't win. Fortunately, the family also owns another horse, Lagrima GG, which is on a winning streak. I'll watch her run on the 19th of this month.

Maroñas:



A pic I snapped at the races:



You may have heard in the news, but right now Hugo Chavez is busy visiting his neighbors. He spent time in Argentina purchasing bonds, and when fellow Fulbrighter James and I heard he would be visiting Uruguay, we began asking around about the possibility of seeing the controversial leader in person. Purely by chance, James learned when Hugo would be arriving at the Radisson Hotel downtown. So, the day of Hugo's arrival, surrounded by news crews from Uruguay and Venezuela, James and I found ourselves in the lobby of the Radisson. Unfortunately, we were all about five hours early.

But, at midnight, Hugo arrived and made the wait [somewhat] worth it. Surrounded by his entourage--some of whom touted shotguns--Hugo first spoke with a group of loyal supporters who proudly carried a Venezuelan flag. I captured this shot of the group before Hugo arrived:



Because the relatively lax security team decided to focus its efforts on me (I'm not sure why), I was only able to see Hugo from a distance. James, on the other hand, almost ran into him. Oh, and for my family back home, Hugo was about 5'11", from what I could tell.



This next week, the weather is supposed to get better. I need it to--I promised myself I would run the Nike 10k here in November, and I need to start training. Lately, running around Montevideo has reminded me of the cold I endured while training for the Boston Marathon, which has been a real disincentive.

For now, keep on keepin' on.