Teacher's Day ´09... still lovin' the gratuitous gifts

Last year I celebrated Teacher's Day at Hogwarts with dinner out with my boss and Anto, the secretary. This year, despite the fact that there were THREE new teachers horning in on my territory, my boss took us all out to eat! I was FORCED to split a bottle of wine with the vodka-lovin', heavy drinkin' British prof since all the native Argentines chose to abstain (don't worry, your girl did not make a spectacle of herself... well, aside from eating 2 giant pieces of cake, but I would have done that without the wine). We talked a little about our students and got to know each other better, and it reminded me how much it helps to realize that other people are in the same boat. I even started to feel affection for the 22-year-old Argentinian Scarlett Johannson lookalike teacher who always seems to rub it in my face that my students are farther behind than hers.
And of course, the gifts:
A potted plant (second year in a row)
Purple body spray
An awesome pink ballpoint pen
A box with candy and an inspirational poem from my boss
Earrings from my other bosses
A little necklace
A hand towel
...SCORE!
My adult students did not give me anything. However, they have already informed me that they expect a dessert and/or song for this Monday, Student's Day. Ingrates.

Bolivia Part One: Villazon!

For winter vacations 2009, I went to BOLIVIA! First I was going to go with a friend from the murga who didn't have much of a budget, the plan being to juggle and sell jewelry at stoplights in La Paz to fund the trip (this plan obviously preceded by me learning how to juggle and make jewelry in a month). Then he couldn't and I was going to go alone, which was both scary and exciting. In the end, I ended up going with these chumps:
Their names are Mati and Facu, and they are two relatively new but wonderful friends from Cordoba. In this photo, taken at our first stop in Bolivia, the border town of Villazon, neither is at their best. Mati is pale from vomiting up all of his bus meal due to the altitude, and Facu is chewing gum to try to distract himself from the cigarrettes he had forbidden himself to smoke during the trip.In the background you can see a bit of the plaza of Villazon, which bore a strking resemblance to Fred Flintstone's workplace. Villazon wasn't all bad, it had this gorgeous mural by the train station:

and, as with many border towns, a ridiculous amount of cheap items from sweaters and puppets to kitchenware, which explains the presence of a ton of Argentinians with giant shopping bags. However, much, much better was yet to come- and thank goodness, since I, as a US citizen, had to pay a 135 dollar visa to enter the dang country. I tried to talk to Evo, but he didn't budge.
After all, I suppose it's a matter of international reciprocity, and since it can't be very easy for a Bolivian, even a Bolivian with 135 dollars to spare, to get into the US, I can't really complain. And boy was it worth it! Here we are enjoying our first Bolivian meal, french fries for me and french fries + meat for Facu (it wasn't exactly the lunch hour). Mati, too queasy to eat, was kind enough to take the photo.

Proud to be an (North non-Canadian non-Mexican) American!

Since Hogwarts didn't have a 4th of July barbecue this year, I took it upon myself to invite some friends over for choripan (sausage and bread sandwiches, a cheaper alternative to asado), apple pie and honoring of the Best Country on Earth. A good portion of guests came in red white and blue as firmly suggested/ordered, with the exception of my rebellious, democracy-shunning friend Cristian, who paid tribute to Russia and communism with his outfit:
Due to the fact that I was the only true blue A-muhr-icun present, I was forced to change my toast from, "To the health and continuing domination of the supreme, most important country in the universe, EVER" to "to friendship and sharing between cultures." Whatevs, the pie was a hit!

Election day!

Sunday, June 28th marked two important occasions: international gay pride day and elections! The first passed by without a peep; since, unfortunately, the Cordoba gay scene is super underground and it is highly uncommon to see a same-sex couple walking together on the street, a march is out of the question. The elections, however, were impossible to ignore. For the past month or so the streets have been papered with these handsome faces:


The first, Luis Juez, former mayor of Cordoba and primary guilty party for the mess at city hall mentioned in the previous post (he was the one that gave all his friends and family lifetime jobs and ridiculous perks there), ended up winning the senate race. The second, Eduardo Mondino, lost. He did, however, achieve immortality with an incredibly catchy campaign song that is sung at least once a day in my house.
The vote here is obligatory, which meant that Sunday buses were running free to nearby towns for all the people that had to go vote. It also meant that the sale of alchohol was prohibited starting at 6 pm the night before, in a savvy move to avoid that familiar election day concern, hangover voting ("let's see, I think I want the United Leftist Front party...oooh, my head hurts... oops, I voted for Juez!")
The elections were a big topic of conversation for the last couple of weeks (now supplanted by swine flu), and it was pretty interesting to hear people's attitudes towards voting. Most of my friends made the trek to the "cuarto oscuro" (the dark room, or voting booth), a few mentioning the need to vote in order to maintain a democratic system that is relatively new (the last military dictatorship ended only 26 years ago). A few others said they weren't going to vote, risking a fine, because they were disillusioned with politics.Well hey, it's hard not to be when you see a video of the debate between Juez and Mondino, in which both (during a commercial break that was recorded regardless) accuse each other of being criminals and con men, and neither denies the accusation. Yikes.

Pay in coins, get some fish sticks

So recently my Aunt Anne (another faithful reader) asked if in Cordoba we were also having a coin shortage like the one in Buenos Aires, mentioned in a New Yorker article.
The answer is yes! Almost everyday I am either told the vegetable guy owes me 15 cents for the next time, or the photocopy lady lets me get a few copies and pay back the 20 cents another time if I only have a 2 peso bill. Having a hundred (and I'm paid in 100s) can be like having nothing if you don't want to make a grocery store trip, cause most people would rather lose the business than part with their small bills. Granted, my "business" is usually a peso worth of candy, so it's an understandable decision. Today was the best though: I bought some spinach and cheese patties (just had one for lunch, EXCELLENT) for 7.50 and gave the guy a ten and two peso coins. To show his gratitude for the coins, not only did he give me back a 5 (thus only charging 7) but also threw in two calamari and cheese sticks. Awesome!

Fight! For the Right!

So, when faithful blog follower Joanie Howland asked why I hadn't written in a while, I told her that basically, although I am having lots of fun in Cordoba, it's fun of a very routine, ordinary variety and not very blog-worthy. However, there are a few things about my life in Cordoba that, although common, are still pretty interesting: protests! Here's a rundown of some of the recent incidents of civil unrest I have participated in, performed at or been inconvenienced by:

1. Festival of Solidarity for Iveco, April 24th, 2009. Iveco is a car parts company where many of the workers were fired in a supposed violation of their labor contract, and thus the entire body of workers went on strike. As is often the case, I was (and am) not completely clear on the details of the conflict: I know there are more than two sides to every story and some people tell it that the firings were a necessary, legal step to combat this oft-mentioned economic crisis we're all going through. I'm not sure, but I do know that the festival was in support of normal, working people who are currently unable to support their families, and if dancing with the murga made them feel even a little bit better, it's got to be worth something!




2. March for the 40th Anniversary of the Cordobazo, May 29th, 2009. The Cordobazo (on this same date in 1969) is the name for a giant, 36 hour strike of union workers and students in opposition to the dictatorship of Ongania and the limits said dictatorship was putting on the rights of students and workers. It turned into an armed conflict between the protestors and the police, tons of property was destroyed, hundreds of protestors arrested and twenty were killed. The spirit of the march, as far as I could tell, was in memory of the fallen, but also a call to repeat the Cordobazo; not so much the violence, but union of students and workers in a common cause, something that is sadly missing today, as evidenced by the 4, count'em, FOUR, different marches to commemorate the event.

3. City hall and bus driver strikes, Friday, June 12-? The city hall workers have been striking since Friday, in protest of a proposal to cut their salaries and limit their benefits. Here's a pic from the Argentine indymedia website (Giacomino, mentioned in the poster, is the mayor who wants to make the cuts): As a result,choripan (sausage sandwiches) stands have popped up everywhere (here's a nice shot of a typical choripan vendor): their owners taking advantage of the lack of regulation, and things are generally a mess. Meanwhile, from Friday to midday Saturday all the buses of the province were on strike for a salary increase, impeding people from traveling for the long weekend and, more importantly, getting to work. The incredibly frustrating part of it all is that these two groups represent two of the most well-paid sectors of Cordoba, with salaries higher than teachers, accountants, and even doctors, to name a few. Even more frustrating, who does the bus strike inconvenience more than anyone? The little guy, of course. People with money have cars or can take taxis, but the less economically fortunate folks have no way to get to their jobs, where they are undoubtedly paid less than the bus drivers.

Cerro Colorado!

Because of a ton of work (Hogwarts with the kids, Precision here in Cordoba with businesspeople) I haven't had a lot of time to keep you guys updated on my life: which isn't a huge problem because recently I haven't had that much of a life beyond classes (though I'm certainly trying!) So now, better late than never, are some pics from my Easter trip to the Cerro Colorado (about three hours north of Cordoba) with Vicky and Vappu. Cerro Colorado, for me, is the best of both worlds, because you are totally in the middle of nature, but you also have a little town with excellent West Texas style architecture. Here's the church:And here's Vicky enjoying nature with some te-re-re (mate with orange juice instead of hot water):

And there was plenty of beautiful wildlife, both large:
and small:

We ate well: noodles, rice and tuna and other delicacies:
And at night, we hit the most hoppin' bar in town (and the only bar in town), Hugo Mario, to play pool, mingle with the families of Cerro Colorado, and even chat with Hugo Mario himself!Here I am pretending to know what I'm doing:

And here are the girls outside of Hugo Maria doing their impression of me sleeping on the bus:

On Easter Sunday, Vicky and I climbed the actual Cerro Colorado:


It was beautiful up there, and the view was awesome (if a little vertigo-inducing):
And on Sunday evening, we had beer and salami sandwiches for the road and then headed back to the hustle and bustle of Cordoba!

March 24th, Dia de la Memoria

Last Tuesday, March 24th, was the 33rd anniversary of the coup d'etat in Argentina (not the only one, but the most significant) that began the "Dirty War", a.k.a.7 years of military dictatorship and uncountable human rights violations.
I spent the afternoon with Vappu, Vicky and the murga at a big march through downtown. Here's some of the hubbub before we set off:
The march was pretty awesome.... I was with the murgas the whole time, so I didn't get to see the breadth of the thing, but Vicky said that it stretched for at least 10 blocks, and there were tons of different groups there: lots of political parties, people with posters with faces of the "desaparecidos" from their town, and of course the "Mesa de Trabajo," (Work Table), an organization that consists in the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo, Abuelas of the Plaza de Mayo, and HIJOS, who are children of desaparecidos. There was lots of drums, chants,and theatricality! One murga organized a little skit where people carrying posters with bad things "repressed" all the other dancers, who were walking around with red blindfolds. Then, together they shout "No to repression!" the drums pick up and the bad people disappear!
I was one of the bad guys, "Ignorance"- here I am with "Capitalism"- check out the American flag face paint!
The march was at least 3 hours long, which is way longer if you're kinda dancing throughout! At a certain point it split up, one group ending in the Plaza San Martin and the other (the one I was in)at a police station where lots of corruption has gone on (I heard different stuff about kids even being killed there just 4 years ago but I'm not positive). There is a lot of anti-police sentiment here in Cordoba, and from what I've heard from more than one dark-skinned pal who ended up spending the weekend in jail for no good reason, it is pretty justified.
So yes, I left the march pretty invigorated with all the cries for social justice and human rights, as well as the inevitable call for memory of the horrors of the dictatorship and punishment for those involved (almost all of whom are roaming free to this day, thanks to pardons from recently-deceased ex-president Raul Alfonsin and total a-hole ex-president Carlos Menem). I was therefore surprised by my conversations with a few students about the holiday.
One student, a 44 year old accountant who was an adolescent during the dictatorship, seemed very cynical about the whole thing, saying that the march was a paltry percentage of Cordoba's population (arguably true) and that most Argentines are too busy trying to get by with crazy inflation and superlow salaries that "memory" isn't really a priority. Another student, a late 20's woman at the company where I teach, told me that she didn't support the holiday or the march, that it was an excuse for a vacation and that people, essentially, have a selective memory: she mentioned how the dictatorship was preceded by a good deal of violence from the left-wing Montaneros, and that the military killed a lot of innocent people as well as said radicals because they "didn't have time" to figure out who was "good" and who was "bad"... pretty nuts.
So yeah, I am learning that the stuff that seems pretty black and white from an outsider perspective is much more complicated inside the country. I know where I stand, but it's pretty interesting to hear other perspectives!

Video from the Corso!

Thanks to Vappu, there is now a video of the dance part of our presentation with the murga! I'm the one in the yellow pants rapping in an impossibly thick gringa accent.
Here's the link:
DESFILE!

Way better than "Dominicans"

Me: "What do we call people from the Dominican Republic?"
Student: "Dominican Republications?"

LA MUUUUUUUUUUUURGAAAAAAAAAA

"Volvio la murga, a seducirlos otra vez, sin que se dieran cuenta....."*

One of my top three favorite things about life in Cordoba (along with my great living situation and the previously mentioned veggie empanadas) is the murga. What is a murga you ask? Well, Wikipedia defines it as a group that makes music in the street for everybody, most often during the Carnaval season or other big party days. There's all sorts of styles, the two main ones here being: murga uruguaya, which is a choir that wears elaborate costumes and makeup and sings songs that almost always have both humor and social critique, and murga porteña, from Buenos Aires,which is much more about flashy dancing, loud drums and razzle-dazzle. (Think "You Got Served") Here in Cordoba there are TONS of murgas, most a combination of those two styles. It was my former guitar teacher who led me to my murga, Ni Lerda Ni Perezosa (Not Slow or Lazy). The name is, it must be admitted, ironic, because we have the reputation of being slow, lazy, and very, very flaky. Still, I love it. With the murga, I've had the chance to perform in the beautiful outdoors:In tons of plazas: at the opening of a public library, at protests dancing down the main avenue of Cordoba, at quinceneras and even at a wedding! (Here I am with Barby, another girl from the murga, and the bride and groom:) In some ways I'd say it's filled the hole left by the wonderful frisbee team at Vassar. Like the Boxing Nuns, we get in a circle and do a cheer before we go out, we wear matching-but-not-matching outfits, there's always the debate about whether the group wants to "get serious" or keep flying by the seat of our pants, and finally, it's made up of a pretty diverse collection of people (despite the reputation all murgueros have of being dirty hippies). In Ni Lerda, for example, we have med students, high schoolers and our resident poet, Felix, who is in his 60's and has quite the sense of humor (his nickname for me is "Sonrisa," or "Smile." This is much better than what he used to call me: "The Other German Girl." Blonde Barby had already taken the first spot).
Here are a few of the members strategizing before we hit the stage- guess which one's Felix:We even have a canine companero, Felix's loyal companion Eureka!
This past Sunday, we had our "corso," which means a free party for everyone in the plaza, ideally during the season of Carnaval. It was, of course, kinda badly organized, but really fun. We set up the stage (here is Vientito, the murga's resident clown, trying to mount a banner):painted our faces :
and settled in for what basically amounted to a neighborhood variety show! There were other murgas, like Patas Pa' Arriba (Feet in the Air):
a kids' murga (here's their percussion section):one adorable murguerito who insisted on being in the middle of the action:
a reggae band that played a little too long, jugglers and fire-breathers, a Nirvana-esque rock band, and, at the end, the ceremonial burning of the "Rey Momo"As it's been explained to me, Momo is like the Idiot King of the Carnaval, and when he goes up in flames, it's a symbol of a total destruction of hierarchies, equality and fiesta for everyone!
The only downside is when the wind picks up and blows flaming pieces of the Rey Momo onto the dancing public... I'm not sure what that's a symbol for.

*The murga returned, to seduce you again, without you realizing it...

Off the Ledge

Hey everybody! First of all, an update. Since my near-suicide first post of '09, I have been filling my life with reading, work, murga, cooking things (like a soup that actually tasted like soup!) and lots of hanging out with the housemates, including an outing to hippie town San Marcos Sierras with awesome new Finnish roommate Vappu (the blondie awaiting her mate in the pic)
As a result, I am doing much better in Cordoba! I still miss the good old days in Austin, and it's still way too freakin hot, but am slowly burrowing back into my Argentinian existence. One of the things that is keeping me busy is the search for private students to fill my time and my pocketbook (hey, something's gotta pay for my lollipops, veggie empanadas and phone cards!). So far, it's not going so hot. The following are my Do's and Don'ts for starting your own English business.
Abby's Private Teachin' Tips

Do:Put up fliers in the schools. The less snobby ones will let you, and most kids have a pretty hard time with English here.
Don't: Expect said kids or said kids' parents to call you immediately. They're busy doing other stuff. But they will call. Eventually. Some day.
Do: Advertise the fact that you are a native speaker and have experience with all levels and ages.
Don't: Get discouraged when an uppity Irishman puts up fliers in YOUR neighborhood advertising the exact same things in the exact same words PLUS other stuff you didn't think to write.
Do: Answer the phone, it could be a potential student!
Don't: Answer the phone if you have just woken up. It could be a grumpy old lady with a billion questions you have no idea how to answer!
In conclusion, please let me know if you know anybody living in Cordoba who wants English classes. Maybe internet advertising is the trick?

A Reluctant Return, now time to RALLY

A week has passed since I left Austin and journeyed back to Cordoba, and my only excuse for not writing earlier, dear reader, is that it has been quite the bumpy transition back! My visit to Austin was better than I could have imagined, full of tacos, tea, and TV time (as well as Thundercloud, tex-mex, trips, treks on the bike, tender moments... I could go on all day). All the quality time with friends, family and framily renewed my heart, but also made me as melty and squishy as a marshmallow when the time came to return. It was like exiting the womb for the second time!
Nobody wants to read a depressing post, so I'll keep it short and un-dramatic: the first week has been HORRIBLE!!! I got sickish the night before I left and have been PLAGUED by stomach pains since then, it's BLISTERING hot and humid and there is no air conditioning to be found (but plenty of MOSQUITOS), the few friends I had have dropped off the face of the EARTH, and all I can think about is sitting on the couch with the Loomis ladies, watching Gossip Girl and eating Eliza's homemade CREPES!
Okay, okay, there's also been some good stuff. Friday night I got to see Manu Chau, for example, and I still have a few friends, mainly my roommates, who are awesome and have been super tolerant with my mood swings. Each day is a little easier,work is picking up, and yesterday I got some great advice about choosing to be positive, so that's the new gameplan! I've made a list of goals for this year to keep me focused, cause goodness knows 10 months may seem like a long time, but in the blink of an eye I'll be back on that couch in Austin, wishing I was still in Argentina.