Saldarriagas in the Southern Cone

I’m still alive! Life has been good lately—I’ve settled into a quiet routine that presents few surprises. It’s largely for this reason that I haven’t been updating my blog as much as I should. For that I apologize. To briefly summarize, I have been working two days a week at the institution for professors in Atlantida (where future teachers are trained), and two days a week at the public elementary school here in Montevideo. I recently led a couple classes at the institution that I especially enjoyed: one on differences between British and American English, and the other on Ebonics and its historical and social context. I learned a lot from preparing both classes. At the public school, I generally assist with activities in various classrooms and grade levels. These activities range from reading stories to playing hangman or vocab tic-tac-toe. I’ve also given a few presentations on life in the US of A, and my experiences living abroad. Since these presentations are often targeted at older students who aren’t taking English, I’ve become good at giving these presentations in Spanish.

By the way, the 1.5 hour trip out to Atlantida is still draining, but I am getting used to it. Plus, I’ve found it’s a great opportunity to catch up on reading “El Viejo y El Mar” (good practice!), watching episodes of Lost on my laptop (I finished all three seasons, so the addiction has resided until February), or listening to my new Flaming Lips CDs ("Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots" is especially good).

In addition to working at the teachers’ institution and elementary school, I’ve begun leading conversation classes at a local private institution called La Alianza. This is a well-respected school that has a close relationship with the US embassy. I work there once a week, leading discussions on various topics from David Sedaris’ “Me Talk Pretty One Day” to what my students did the day before. This week I’m going to base the discussion around the theme of dissent; I plan to share some Neil Young and Rage Against the Machine lyrics, and also to look at parallels between society’s reactions to Vietnam and Iraq.

That reminds me to mention something that struck me before, but that I forgot to mention: I have been shocked by just how deeply Uruguayans (and, by extension, foreigners in general), were struck by 9/11 as it was happening. All my students—in both Salto and Montevideo—remember exactly where they were and what they were doing when the towers fell. Oftentimes I feel as if I’m talking to a fellow US citizen while I listen to the Uruguayans’ memories of the event.

To break up the little routine I’ve developed here in Montevideo, Tía Maria and my dad, Al, traveled all the way from Florida a couple weeks ago, just to say hi! And, of course, to take me around the Cono del Sur as their private tour guide. We spent two weeks together, having a great time traveling around Uruguay (Montevideo, Salto, and Colonia del Sacramento), Buenos Aires, and the waterfalls at Iguazu. One of the most effective ways to change one’s perspective on a place is to change roles from resident to tour guide. Taking my family around Uruguay and introducing them to my home for the past seven months was a ton of fun (and a bit surreal), but it also opened my eyes to many aspects of Uruguay that I hadn’t noticed before.

Our trip together began in Montevideo, where we visited my schools, the Fulbright office, and, of course, El Mercado del Puerto. What’s “The Port Market”? Well, it’s where you can find the best food in Montevideo, especially if you have cravings for seafood, chorizo (sausage), morcilla (blood sausage), riñones (kidneys), molleja (salivary glands), chinchulin (intestines), or just good old-fashioned beef (trust me, all this is more appetizing when it’s sitting on a plate in front of you, and you don’t know what is what). Needless to say, we ate a lot, and sampled Uruguay’s finest beers and the famous “Medio y Medio” (a sweet mix of champagne and white wine).

Following Montevideo, we took a bus north to Salto, the town that turned me from a gringo to an Uruguassshhhho (as Tía Maria pronounces it). Aldo, my good friend and Spanish teacher, took us on a tour of the city, then we visited the teachers’ institution where I worked. There, my family had a chance to chat with all thirty of my students. When I first arrived in Montevideo from Salto, I kept seeing the faces of my students in Salto at my new schools, so actually seeing my students in Salto was a wonderful (and, again, slightly surreal) experience! Also, in Salto I experienced what was definitely one of the highlights of the trip for me when I took my family to the public school where I worked. Olga, the headmistress, took us around the school, then the teachers welcomed us with a roasted chicken lunch—exactly the kind of delicious food I had become accustomed to at the school. After lunch, I visited each classroom to share my email address (the school recently got a connection to the Internet). Al and Maria got a chance to say “hello” as well. The children responded with big smiles, and by smothering us with hugs and kisses. It was a wonderful but very bittersweet experience…much sweeter than bitter, though.

From Salto, we boarded another bus for a tiring, nine-hour trip to Colonia del Sacramento. The well-preserved colonial town was beautiful, but rainy weather made it a bit difficult to appreciate it in all its glory. Nonetheless, it was great to take it easy and sit around some quiet coffee shops and restaurants. It was here in Colonia that I had an arugula salad, and my addiction for arugula was reignited (and soon receded once I realized I am allergic to it). A few shots of Colonia:







From Colonia, we took the ever-popular Buquebus, a high-velocity ferry, to Buenos Aires. As always, Buenos Aires was a pleasure to visit, in spite of the grumpy taxi drivers. My dad pointed out how much cleaner the city was than when we last visited two years ago. Much of the graffiti that had been painted on statues and buildings had been removed, for example. In addition to strolling around the city with the family, I have to list two additional experiences that were highlights, the first being a Boca Juniors soccer game.

While talking to the hotel concierge about good Italian restaurants, I noticed a poster advertising a soccer game between Boca Juniors (arguably Argentina’s best, most popular soccer team) and the São Paulo Futebol Club (arguably Brazil’s best soccer team). In spite of Al and Maria’s decision to go to what was expected to be an exquisite Italian restaurant, I decided to embrace a hamburguesa and chori-pan and head to the soccer game. It was a great decision. The energy at the game was incredible, with fireworks going off (set of by the crowd), constant chants, and incessant yelling. The fans seemed to be manic depressive, praising their players one moment and cursing them the next. In the end, Boca defeated Sao Paulo 3-2. Leaving the stadium thirty minutes after the game, I noticed the fan section of the stadium was still inside, banging drums and singing chants. Come to find out, the fan section is locked in the stadium until everyone else has exited—apparently the stadium’s managers found this effective to stop the post-game riots and fighting. Indeed, Boca Junior soccer games are known to be some of the most violent in Latin America.

I will sum up the second highlight in five words: LA CABAÑA DE LAS LILAS. Universally and unanimously recommended; best steak you will have in Argentina. It's in Puerto Madero.

Some images from our time in Buenos Aires:

Maria posing with one of the ancient trees:



Inside a cathedral:



Recoleta cemetery:



A church in Recoleta:



Caminito!:



Taking it easy in front of the Casa Rosada:



Returning to the waterfalls at Iguazu was also great. It’s funny to think that the last time I was there (last May), I asked myself if I would ever have the chance to see the Falls again. [Brief interjection here: I just looked at the man sitting at the table next to mine, and he is reading a newspaper, looking at a full-page image of the Falls. Coincidence?] Anyway, the Falls, as always, were gorgeous, and unable to be contained in a description or a photograph.

The moment my dad was almost eaten by rabid coatis:



Crossing borders at the Itaipu Dam:





An image of a turbine from the tour I wasn't able to do the first time I visited the Dam:



Al's first time in a helicopter:



Back at the cataratas!:













Al and Maria returned me to Montevideo refreshed and ready to finish my last couple months strong. It’s hard to believe time has passed so quickly. Until the next post, good night and best wishes!