mothers day etc

happy tuesday boludos.

What a beautiful weekend that I spent inside!! Sadly, for 4 days I was glued to my bed with the flu (self/Elena diagnosed). It was rough. My whole body hurt. I don’t recommend it. I was sad to miss the entire weekend, but I needed to recuperate. It’s weird being in a foreign country by yourself feeling ill, especially without my mom, my bed, or my bathtub to aid me. But of course, I’m in good hands. And the “foreign country” isn’t so foreign anymore. After a few days with no appetite, Elena had had enough. She burst into my room without knocking (we’ve learned not to do this unless it’s an emergency), hands full with the classic Marilyn Monroe tv dinner tray filled with cereal, milk, fruit, coffee, cold water and yogurt (Elena is just very convinced that yogurt has healing powers… love ya girl but Activia isn’t going to clear my sinuses). 

She sat in my swivel chair and watched me eat - let me tell you: living with a 78 year old Argentine is like a constant  struggle of convincing here I’m not anorexic or something… if you don’t have lunch, she WILL fire up the toaster oven. Be warned. After a few more hours of sleep, she kicked me out of my room and put me at her spot in the living room on her red couch with the little mini pillow. She made soup and let me watch tv. Who knew she had the NBA channel???? Seriously. Game changer. 

Somehow, Thursday and Friday rolled on by. On Saturday, I finally felt well enough to step out to the great outdoors… the sidewalk… where I hailed a cab to Palermo. I met Cass, Jordan and Delfina at Magdalena’s for brunch, where Cassidy swears by the breakfast burrito. After talking about it for weeks, the three of us ordered it (and were NOT disappointed). Real(ish) cheddar cheese, veggies, potatoes and eggs.. sold. When we parted, the girls went on to Terrazas del Este, a boliche that opens up their terraces in the springtime for day parties on Saturdays. I’ll make my way there eventually! While they were gone, I shopped in Palermo for Elena’s Mothers’ Day gift. Since it’s spring here now, Argentina’s Mothers’ Day is October 19th. Elena had mentioned it once because the family was to come over on sunday night for EMPANADAS! Om nom. I really wanted to show her my gratitude for her taking care of me, sick and well. My findings included an “E” mug, chocolate truffles, a calendar, and a giant tissue paper flower I found at an adorable stationary shop. I wanted to bake cookies, but this  country does not know what brown sugar or baking soda are…. kk Argentina. When I got home, she was at her routine Saturday night movie date with her daughters, Claudia(Clo) and Ani. If you know me, you know I love a craft. Combine that with cabin fever and boom, here’s what you get!

When she got home -  at like 1 AM !! - I was asleep. I woke up to the sound of her excitedly, loudly calling her daughters and her friends on the phone. ALWAYS on the phone, that girl. Landlines… so 90s. When I woke up for cornflakes Elena hugged me for probably 45 seconds without letting go, which is funny because she’s such a nugget, seriously like 4 feet tall. She said I had made her cry, and how hard it is going to be when I leave her… but let’s not think about that yet.

The evening commenced, empanadas on empanadas. We pushed all the furniture in the house together for a family fiesta. Elena, me, Clo and Ani, Elena’s son Daniel and his wife who I LOVEEE-Silvia, Elena’s cousin/person I still don’t really know who that guy was, and her two grandsons, Mati and Ale. The nine of us sat down to eat, first for bruschetta that Elena took a stab at for the first time, then a greek salad Ani the flower child made, then of course the empanadas. Yum. Let’s talk about Silvia. She sat next to me at the table and after each discussion, she would speak to me slowly, making sure I was included in the conversation. She’s also super chic and I love how level headed she is, especially because Daniel can be a little much at times! I definitely enjoyed my time with them, but towards the end of dinner I was so uncomfortable.. I haven’t mentioned it before, but Argentines are extremely racist. In Argentina, after being here for three months, I have seen three, maybe four, black people. Triste, our friend we made at Magdalena’s a few months ago who owns that hotel in Palermo, provided us with the history lesson. He told us that there are very few black people (note that black people in Castellano is “los negros” which is even worse) in the country because Juan Manuel de Rosas, who was this crazy rich dude who ruled over Argentina in the early 19th century, either had them killed or exiled from Argentina. Also, during colonization, African slaves went mostly to either the Caribbean or Brazil, because they were the easternmost countries to reach. Also, Argentina is totally full of European immigrants from the mass immigration that occurred from the late 1800s until 1930. Because of the lack of diversity in this city, the people are filled to the top with ignorance and hate. I had heard that, but never experienced it first hand. At dinner, they got to talking about racism in Argentina. At first, it was a healthy discussion, but as it progressed, man did it get sour. However, they thought nothing of it the entire time, Elena included. One family member said that she once stayed in a hostel in Germany and was put in a room with two super tall African men. She described them as if they were not human beings, and added that she immediately thought, “Do I have to sleep in a room with them?” She requested a new room, too. All the while the family continued to laugh and share similar stories, saying “ooooh you’re so bad!!” and holding up the hitler mustache and extended arm. Meanwhile, I sat there completely in shock, without any idea as to what the hell I should do. It was heartbreaking, frustrating and just so concerning that so many people in this world are still living SO ignorantly. When Elena asked me my opinion, I, red-faced and still in shock, managed to explain that skin color is no way of determining the character of a person. That’s when Ani chimed in, “yes, but the only experiences I’ve had with black people have been bad ones.” I felt defeated. Thank GOD for Silvia, who seemed to have more than twice the brain of everyone else. She understood me. Mati asked me what would happen if my friend dated someone of another race, or how my family would react if I did. God be with these ignorant, ignorant people. 

 It wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t fair, and it still makes me mad, because I love Elena and I love everyone here incredibly much.. and I truly believe that they are really good people, but that mentality is not “so 90s,” it’s the damn 50s. I’m thankful to have Rebecca, my friend who lived with Elena last year, to talk to about this, because she felt the exact same frustration, confusion and discomfort. Racism is never okay anywhere. The world has come too damn far for that.

I had hesitation about posting that part because I don’t want the people taking the time to read pages and pages about my life to be discouraged. But, as we all know, life isn’t always rainbows and butterflies, and neither is being abroad. There are challenges. That’s part of it, which isn’t anything to hide.      hashtag growth.

ANYWAYS, I spent my Monday studying for my FINAL EXAM for my History of Argentina class. Y’all. I’m done with one of my five classes!! There was a midterm and a final (today) and attendance was taken. Boom. My Tuesday mornings just got way better. In my tuesday night class, where I am writing this as we speak, we had a midterm and for our final will have a simple essay, due November 4th. Boom. Another class soon to be kaput. The three that will remain finish before Thanksgiving, then we leave for Uruguay! Yay travel! Yay South America!! I’m so pleased with my scholastic experience thus far. I’ve actually learned a ton about Argentine history and culture- not just in my short term memory. And I really have enjoyed my professors, too. My Castellano teacher, Celina, is the sweetest of them all. Last week, she tearfully shared with us that her mom is very, very sick and she ended class two hours early. I almost started crying right then and there because I just can’t even imagine what that feels like. But I sure do miss my mama! But... it’s just my luck, because FINALLY the Sammons pair is joining me to frolic and vineyard hop in Mendoza THIS WEEK!!!!!!! THREE MORE DAYS OMG!!! I keep thinking my brother is going to pop out of nowhere, but that’s just pushing my luck, isn’t it. I meet them in Mendoza on Friday and we come back together on Monday to hang out in BA for a few days, finish up their trip with yet another empanada party (!!! never too many) and I’ll send them off on Halloween. It’s surreal how quickly time is flying. It’s been three months living in Argentina… in two months I’ll be in Memphis wrapping Christmas presents.. that’ s 48 days to be exact… not counting down, but rather trying to savor every day I have left here. Hope y’all have a fantastic week! I’ll be sure to document the heck out of my weekend.

OH! and i sent some snail mail today - gimme your address if you would like a surprise! 

Besossssss

Mar Del Plata

Our sweet porteña friend Delfina invited us to spend the weekend with her and her six friends in MDP, a big city right along the Atlantic coast. (sorry this post is photo-less)

On Friday morning, I woke up at 10:36.

"Shit."

Our bus was it leave at noon all the way in Retiro, aka the other side of the big city. I threw a handful of clothes in my backpack, inhaled a couple bites of yogurt, and set off running to hail a taxi to Jordan's house. No luck. I took the subte instead, luggage in hand, blasting the new music I'd downloaded the night or two before, sans headphones, shamelessly. When Jordan and I united, we quickly hailed a cab to Retiro, terrified we would miss our bus to MDP. Funny enough, we beat Delfina. Ha. Argentine time... Jordan got us the best seats in the house, front row on the second floor of the bus. That way we got to see the excellent view of green grass and cows chillin in their pastures. 

Six hours went by quickly and the three of us (cass spent the weekend in cordoba for Oktoberfest) arrived at Julie's house. Julie is Del's forever friend. They've known each other for ages. Julie has her own apartment there because she goes to school in MDP. She lives alone on the sixth floor in a one bedroom apartment, complete with a kitchen, a bathroom and a big living space with a dining room table, a tv and a trundle bed. That's where Del and I slept- Jordan and Julie slept in Julie's big bed. We settled in just in time to get ready to go out. Julie hosted a previa (pregame) for her friend Jose who had just turned 21. The party was the four of us, Jose, Tina, Tili, Luz and a few boys. The girls spent the entire weekend with us, which was wonderful because we got a chance to speak and understand true Castellano in the way that our peers speak. 

Post previa, we went to a boliche right on the shore for a pizza dinner first, then dancing of course. Unfortunately, I had a persistent migraine and could no longer tolerate the electronic music and strobe lights (basically every chronic migraine sufferer's worst nightmare)! It took a while, but at about 3:00, I rounded up Julie, del and Jordan and we went home. I can't even express the joy I felt to put my head on that pillow! The next day was gorgeous, but unfortunately just way too cold to beach it up. Apparently beachin' doesn't properly take place until January. Either way, we spent the day walking about town. Julie showed us the center of town, as well as the coast. I was warned that it resembles New Jersey much more than Florida, but I still found it to be lovely, especially seeing the waves crash over and over again against the big boulders that dotted the coastline. 

We met up with the rest of the crew in the afternoon to shop around and enjoy each other's company. Each girl was so kind. They all went out of their way to ask me questions about myself and to really get to know me as well as they could in a short period of time. Nelly this, Nelly that. Jordan this, Jordan that. As much as you know how much I enjoy living with Elena, it was awesome to have an immersion experience with girls my age. If anything, it made me want to stay even more than I already do. Tili is this teeny tiny ball of fun with giant eyes and pale, perfect skin. She, for god knows what reason, decided that instead of Nelly, y name should be Popi, the. Popiz (pronounced pop-peace). We laughed every time she said it and I would answer her without a question. Tina, short for Augustina, had already met me months ago, briefly, outside of Rosebar in BA. Of course, I was the only one who remembered this fact, so she found it extra funny when I reminded her that she'd taught me how to say "entiendo" without sounding like an idiot. 

I loved how she was constantly teaching me correct pronunciations and little sayings, while still being hilarious and friendly. Jose called me her baby- she was constantly looking after me, making sure I was content. She ran to me with napkins when I spilled ice cream on myself, she comforted me when we lost Jordan at the boliche that night and dove into the crowd and didn't come back until she had Jordan on her arm. But I haven't gotten to that yet. Before the boliche, called Sethai, also on the water, we met up at the other girls' apartment for a little dinner party. Tili and Jose prepared the fanciest: Lay's potato chips and ham&cheese pizza.have these girls ever seen a vegetable before? Who's to say... Either way, it was a ton of fun, all 7 of us seated at the table, laughing and telling stories. Of course, Jose tried to shove cupcakes from her birthday in our faces, just as any maternal argentine would do. We continued the fun with some super loud Cumbia music, and the girls taught us how to properly dance lie argentines. (See my fb page for a tagged video... hint: it's all in the right arm).

So we set off to Sethai to continue the fun. It was empty when we arrived at 2, and overly packed when we left three hours later. There was a great band that played, and as the people filled the empty space, Jose tugged my shirt sleeve. "Mira, Nelly!!!" (Look behind you!) sure enough, every single person was shaking that right arm EXACTLY as the girls taught me. I couldn't help but laugh! Another hour passed. I decided I really didn't want my beer, so I gave it to the drummer. Typical me move, and a terrible mistake, as he proceeded to follow me around the entire night, whispering to Tina that he "likes" me like my middle school "boyfriend" would have in the Paradiso parking lot. But I couldn't be preoccupied in tha matter, for Jordan had gone missing in the gigantic, three-story establishment. Thank god for Jose running into the crowd as if it were a house on fire and saving my beloved pal. 

The next morning was our last full day/night in MDP. As soon as we woke up we walked over to Luz's apartment for homemade ñoqis (gnocchi) made with love by her mama. Dat meat sauce doe. There was especially plenty to go around because one of us (anonymous) had a moment of weakness on the street corner on the way. I won't go into that but JEJE we lolled. But my poor pal was sick all day long and the whole crew, Luz and her mom included, decided to chill out in the park by the shore. We concluded our night with empanadas and great conversation, going over the same story about the profession of my faces when we lost Jordan. Oh how we laughed and laughed! It felt so great to be able to converse with these girls, many of whom do not know a lick of English. Although MDP itself isn't that special, or gorgeous, or distinguished, I'm not lying when I say this has been my favorite trip so far. I can't wait to see my new friends again when they come to BA for a visit-or maybe I'll just have to make my way to them. Look Mom!! I'm experiencing things!! 

The next morning (Monday afternoon) we all said our sad goodbyes. Jordan and I hoped on our 6 hour bus ride ready to get back home. Unfortunately, someone on the bus had some sort of a medical emergency (NOT Ebola don't fret) and we were forced to pull over to the nearest hospital. And wait. For three hours. Phew. At least they kept the engine running. I thought Jordan and I were going to lose it. We maintained our sanity though the majesty of wheat crackers and Snapchat, just like any resourceful girl would know to do. We finally arrived in BA at midnight, and I was welcomed by Elena with a big mama bear hug and a kiss on the cheek. Life ain't so bad.

That wraps up my travels until my parents attempt to visit me (part II) on the 24th when we go to MENDOZA!!! Sluuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrpppppp. 

Stay tuned for more very very soon! 

Un abrazo,

Nelly

El Norte

This is going to be difficult because from Thursday to right now, SO MUCH has happened. This will also be unapologetically lengthy. 

Two weekends ago, the three of us (usual crew) decided to plan a weekend trip to Salta & Tilcara, aka El Norte. This is the Tierra del Sol, the always (almost always) sunny, warm and absolutely breathtaking mountain range in the north of Argentina, very close to Bolivia, Chile and Brazil.

 For transportation, we booked an overnight bus for Thursday evening (bravely) and a return flight on Monday. Right after our Thursday classes ended, we hopped on the bus and were on our merry way. Now, this bus is nothing like the iguazu bus experience. Oh no no. This wasn't some janky-ass semicama, this was a cama servicio ejecutivo. Oh baby. So much room for activities!!! Our seats did indeed double as beds, as they reclined almost all the way back. Shoutout to the poor lad sitting behind me as I was horizontal as soon as we boarded... Gracias dude. 

As you should know by now, we gals love to eat. Understatement. That's why we came super prepared with our favorite salads from Baking BA, a healthy to-go place dangerously close to our Wednesday classes. Little did we know that it just wasn't necessary: exhibit A, our first course... As seen on Instagram :O

Yes, it is as sketchy as it looks. On the bottoms left we have an authentic roll up made with yellow cake, ham, cheese & mayonnaise. SOS. We were then served chicken milanesa, which is just like a big flat chicken nugget. Our little "ejecutivo" server came to us frequently with refills on agua and continued to offer us more food. With a movie playing in front of me, Jordan sleeping to my right, a big, beautiful night sky view to my left, and some good country music in my ears, I was quite pleased. In fact, 21 hours felt like nothing but a short commute. I woke up rested and ready for the next move. 

We arrived in Salta, Argentina the following morning, with confident hopes to be able to find and rent an automatic car for our travels. 3 cab rides - bus station, airport, town square - nothin' nada zip. At first, it was incredibly disappointing, since I had relished the idea of finally getting back behind the wheel after 10 weeks. Oh, forgot to mention, I am officially at the halfway point of my life as an Argentine! Time, stahhhp it. So after we spent about three hours car hunting, we bought a bus ticket to take us to Tilcara. Tilcara is where you'll find all the neature. Pretty neat. We had a few hours to kill before the 10PM bus, so instead of sulking, we turned water into wine. Literally. After checking our bags at the station, we took a gondola ride to see the gorgeous view of the entire city of Salta. Who doesn't love a gondola? 

I hadn't a clue how big Salta actually is. Most people who came before us told us not to waste any time in salta since there's "nothing there," but I think we successfully proved that theory to be falso. After our gondola ride and a fantastic dinner with a ..smidge.. of wine, we bussed it to Tilcara, the star of the show. The main appeal to travel to this area is twofold: the Andes mountains & the Salinas Grandes, aka the world's 3rd largest salt plains. Of course, at 2am, the three of us were the ONLY ones to get dropped off at the little town of Tilcara. The station seemed to be made of Adobe. It was pitch black. There was a dimly lit dirt road ahead of us. "Here we go," I thought. Frantically trying to find our hostel, we were surrounded by little shops and such on both sides of the street. Stray dogs stared us down with hungry eyes. A few groups of men and some women were hanging out on the dark street, said nothing, but obviously stared at the three helpless gringas. With a little help, we found our cute casa and prepared for the morning. When we stepped out the door the next morning, we couldn't help but laugh. This is probably the safest, cutest town in the entire country, UNDOUBTEDLY with the kindest people. Across our I little dirt road was a sweet yellow lab posted up and ready to greet us. Behind him, the mountainous scenery immediately swept us off our feet. At the crack of 9, we set off to find adventure. 

This is when it gets good. 

Retracing our steps from the night before, we found ourselves in the middle of a parade. People from this area are of indigenous descent, so their deep brown skin and long, black, tied-back hair greatly contrast the appearance of the average Porteño we see on a daily basis. These people came from different pueblos of the Jujuy region, all donning their local ponchos of vivid colors. When the sound of drums and those pipe music thingies finally died down, we were able to book our Adventure #1 with a sweet man wearing a Messi jersey and nike shox. He took us right up an uphill road, one that unbeknownst to us would become very familiar. He led us to Tilcara Hostel Mística, another soon to be familiar place. Before we knew it, we were piling into a little grey Fiat, complete with the hostel's owner as our tour guide. Her name is Elba Cristina. I adore her. 

Adventure day 1 seemed almost too good to be true, especially because we had no idea what to expect. Elba drove us to Pumamarca, my Elena's favorite part of the region. This is where Elba let us out to explore for an hour. The mountains are like nothing I have ever seen in my entire life. The "Hill of 7 Colors" is the backdrop of this sweet and quiet little pueblo, mostly made of red dirt adobe homes (but don't worry y'all...many have direct tv) lining cobblestone roads. The 7 colors is not a lie by any means: the mountain looks like God dipped a paintbrush in red, purple, green, gold, grey, blue and pink, and then went to town. Observe:

Our next stop was up, up and away. Elba drove us up the mountains, one dangerously curvy road at a time... Don't look down!! The mountains are nothing like a Tennesseean would imagine. Lush greens and trickling water, you ask? I say nay nay. In fact, It's probably as close to Mars I will ever get. The higher we escalated, the more my head began to pound. Luckily for me, Elba came in the clutch with an ancient remedy: the coca leaf. No, she did not administer drugs, this is the coca plant in its original form. She instructed us to roll up one dried leaf and stick it between our teeth and gums. Strange, but hey, when in Tilcara right? Elba showed us typical music of the region, then switched it over to an Enya CD as we admired the indescribable view out the backseat windows. Elba is quite a woman. She runs her hostile with the help of her son and daughter, both of whom are fully grown, probably in their thirties. Elba claimed to be sixty. Elba herself is a short and stout rubia. Her wavy blonde hair, wrinkled skin and bright brown eyes told me that she had spent her life happily and simply under the argentine sun. She speaks rather good English too, so not only did we never had an issue communicating, but we also taught and learned from each other each I time we exchanged our knowledge. 

At the top of the mountain, we found what we had come for: the salt plains. In the distance it looked like several football fields covered in snow. Up close, it looked like several football fields covered in snow. Elba parked the car and gave us time to wander and take pictures. How weird it was to walk on the rigid plain of super concentrated sodium bicarbonate! I tried to pick up a chunk that was firmly stuck to the ground and yelped in pain as I discovered how sharp salt really is. 

After several photos with the strong, chilly wind blowing our hair all about, we hopped back in the car. Elba took us to a quaint little restaurant overlooking the mountainous hills and the salty plains. We shared fresh veggies (A RARE DELICACY) and tamales as we enjoyed God's untouched creation. Afterwards, we drove all the way back down. Truly a humbling experience seeing such a different backdrop. That night, we had dinner at a peña, a restaurant that doubles as a folklore dance hall, aka dinner and a show!! Super cool to watch, but we were pretty wiped out.

The next morning, we embarked on our mini journey up a mountain, on foot, to see La Garganta del Diablo, aka the devil's throat. 4 km up, 4km down. Once we got up there, this is what we saw. Not half bad, eh?

Once we reached the summit, we paid ten pesos and were granted access to the Garganta. We walked down two sets of stairs cut out from the mountain, all the way to the bottom of the canyon. The terrain was of rocks of every color, along with a stream of cool, clean water. We walked upstream until the path ended. That was when I had to get creative and jump from rock to rock, climb a little, maybe slip and fall once... But eventually, we reached the beautiful Garganta: a giant waterfall that instantly cooled me off. A few couples were seated nearby, sharing a picnic. 

A selfie and a few minutes later, we began our trek back to town. Because we had originally planned on traveling to Cafayate, we only booked two nights at the hostel. Luckily, since we decide to stay in Tilcara, Elba had space for us to stay a night in Hostel Mística. Even before we had made that decision, Elba had invited us for breakfast at her hostel, and before the peña she had us over for mate and homemade biscuits with dulce de cayote, a cactus jam. She refused to let us go hungry, thirsty, or needy in any means. She truly went above and way way wayyyy beyond to make us happy, and I will forever be so grateful to her for showing us that unconditional love. 

Our final night in Tilcara was fantastically argentine. We dined at Tilcara's finest restaurant, where we enjoyed delicacies such as llama carpaccio, tomato tart and llama tenderloin. Llama for days. I swear, if I could pick that restaurant up and put it in Nola without making a single change, their earnings would multiply by twenty, easily. It was an incredibly lovely place, with exposed brick walls and rustic wooden tables, with brilliantly bright, abstract paintings to contrast. The owner was helping his son do his homework when we arrived, which reminded me how compassionate the people are in this country. Later on, when we came back to the hostel, I swung in the pink hammock out on the terrace, admiring the starry sky that I rarely get to see. The other men and women staying in the hostel invited us to drink wine and sing three of them played their guitars. It was a lovely, peaceful way to end the trip.

At the crack of 5, before the first rooster crowed, we woke and loaded up the car. Instead of taking a bus, Elba offered to drive us through the scenic route to Salta, where we had our flight back to BA. Man, it really was gorgeous. Unlike the mars-ish mountains, these were covered in mossy trees. Elba pointed out different animals and flowers, including their bright red national flower. We passed at least 10 cows, too. Finally, we reached our destination and bade our foster mama Elba farewell, promising to keep in touch. What a perfect time to get away from the city for a breath of fresh air! I came home feeling refreshed, energized, and most importantly, ecstatic to see Elena!! Stay tuned for my next excursion with Jordan in Mar del Plata! mooooo