The second of our two group-sponsored trips (the first being San Antonio de Areco) was to Jujuy and truly started Wednesday night when I went out to an asado with a number of people in my group and stayed until 4am sampling different meats and learning how to prepare each one. In typical fashion I packed for Jujuy when I got home, so the weekend began when I met up with a couple friends to split an 8:10am cab after 2 hours of sleep.

Jujuy is an Argentine province in the North-West corner of the country, and like nearly every other province in Argentina it has essentially nothing in common with Buenos Aires save for the Rioplatense Spanish. It was only a two hour flight from the airport within Buenos Aires (Jorge Newbury) though I´d be surprised if more than 1/4 of the 50 people on the trip (of the 106 group members) were awake to experience it.  I certainly wasn't.  When we stumbled out of the plane onto the little Jujuy tarmac (quick trivia: is tarmac technically the area outside the airport on which planes land?  NO!...usually, since Tarmac is actually the patent name of a type of pavement--more commonly known as a blacktop.  Useful, I know.)...anyway, when we got out of the airport we had four small buses waiting for us: three bland white ones and one bright one with huge images of Jujuy.  I quickly got on the picturesque one which happened to have an awesome driver named Antonio and the cooler with water bottles.  From the airport in San Salvador de Jujuy it was a 2 1/2 hour ride to Tilcara, the small city outside of which our hostel was located.

The hostel was pretty cool with about 10 small red buildings within a few hundred yards of the mountains and only a stone's throw (literally) further from the city of Tilcara. 


We ate when we first got there, during which I made a key discovery of a ping-pong table on the premises...other key discoveries included ample hot water in the showers, maids that came unnecessarily frequently, and three llamas randomly chillin' in the back.  After the quick meal I headed out with my two roommates to explore the town, and within 5 minutes of reaching the town plaza I was happily wearing my own llama sweater.




The first night we dinner in the hostel restaurant, complete with chicken and fresh goat cheese. Since we were all exhausted we didn't go out on the town.



The first full day we hiked through some ruins near Tilcara that dates back to the 900s and then moved on to the 42 mile away historic town of Humahuaca.



In Humahuaca we ate lunch at La Peña de Fortunato where I sat with the staff members and practiced my Spanish for a while. After lunch we walked around the town for a couple hours. In the town was a giant statue of a man raising one hand and a couple fingers on that one hand, but it merely looked like he was trying to get a waiter's attention so I didn't think it merited a picture on the blog. That said, the following picture was taken about 10 feet from the statue's base. Literally a minute before leaving I remembered that the staff strongly suggested we buy hats to shield ourselves from the sun so I ran into the nearest store and bought the truly spectacular hat that are in a number of the later photos.



After Humahuaca we drove back to the hostel for a laid back night...which we took to mean a night on the town. My roommates and I took (legally) a few bikes from the hostel to explore the town a bit, after which we returned and walked with a number of people into town for dinner. Since we'd gotten back at around 5:30pm and walked into Tilcara around 7:30, every restaurant was closed. One of the CIEE staff members recommended a particular restaurant to me so while waiting for it to open, I went with about 10 people to a choripan stand across the street for appetizers.

The restaurant itself was called El Puesto and is renown in the tiny town of Tilcara (alliteration, anyone?) for its--what else in Jujuy--llama.




Since I know you're wondering, llama tastes like a more flavorful version of turkey, and in this case arrived in a sweet orange sauce with potatoes on the side. Ironically I discovered today that my friends and I ate so much llama while at El Puesto that when the coordinators (who didn't, unlike us, go at the obnoxious American dinner time) arrived at El Puesto they were forced to order fish.

Day three we left bright and early to drive a couple hours to La Salina Grandes, or the large salt flat. 5000 square kilometers of salt with an absurdly large line in front of a tourist pay-to-enter porta-potty...truly an amazing sight to see. Additionally we were about 5000 meters above sea level. The salt flat is barren save for a few huge trucks leaving behind black smoke and a few holes and piles (of salt) in what is otherwise the epitome of nature. While there we snapped a number of (admittedly cliche) pictures on the flats and hacked at the salt a few times with ice picks. And on the way we ran into a number of vacunas.







we returned to Tilcara, but on the way back stopped in Purmamarca (yes, with an "r"--I misspelled it by accident--though I still maintain it's better when it translates to "Puma Brand") for lunch at Claudia Vilte, a hike through a few of the mountains, and some last minute shopping for llama gear. At lunch a folkloric group performed for us, as in Humahuaca, but in this case was noticable because out of nowhere the guitarist was wearing the ridiculous hat I'd bought.



This area is well-known for its seven-colored mountain, and while I didn't count colors the variety of colors was certainly noticable and were much brighter than I'd anticipated. We also stumbled upon a soccer field during our hike where a number of the townspeople were gathered either watching or playing in the game which was a really cultural thing to witness.







We flew back here to Buenos Aires the next morning which was a serious reality check as I have two midterms due shortly. Fortunately I have the writing of this blog post as another escape from reality.

...until now.

So for Iom Kippur, as it's spelled here, I went with a couple people to Sinagoga Libertad (Sinagoga de la Congregacion Israelita Argentina), the oldest "significant" (essentially meaning the first large, formalized) and most famous synagogue in Buenos Aires. Holding about 400-500 people, it's got a beautiful facade that's very intricate with marble columns and such, and an interior that includes half of a gold-plated dome above the ark with a marble ark and a small bimah.


I was supposed to meet a two friends at the synagogue's street corner (30 feet from the building) and I ended up running into one of them on the way there. As the two of us were waiting at the meeting spot for our other friend a guy came over and asked, "You waiting for anyone?" (in Spanish). Only after I responded did I realize he had an earpiece, prompting his next question, "Are you going to shul?" When we told him we were he immediately asked if we had IDs and then told us we couldn't wait on the street and had to go inside. Thus we walked over to the security guard at the entrance gate with our passports out. "Oh, you're from the United States," he greeted in English, "I speak English, we can talk in English. You have gun?"...nothing like a nice "Hi, you're from the US (not an American since technically American is for all people in North and South America--that term referring only to US citizens offends some people here), got a gun" greeting. He then proceeded to ask about a knife, my synagogue at home, and then after being satisfied with our answers and seeing Israel passport stamps he let us in. While this may seem like high security, the reality is he didn't frisk me, nor did I have to go through a metal detector. Compared to my synagogue at home this was tame.

While putting on my tallis a woman directed us up to the upper level and told us to find a seat. So we went up only to find every seat reserved except the few seats all the way in the upper front corners with no view of the bimah. So after some debating we sat in those seats and started talking to a nice man who apparently was the first elected Jewish leader in a Patagonian town. Then our other friend arrived and told us that he'd talked to the Rabbi's wife a few days before (another story entirely) and she said to take any seat on the first (one above the ground level in Argentina) floor. So we moved to the best seats on the first floor until a woman from Chicago started talking with us and told us that all the seats were reserved and that every one would be filled and we'd be kicked out. A porteno who looked like a regular confirmed that sentiment so we went back to our nosebleed seats until we decided to play the extranjero card. We went downstairs to the main level right up to the bimah and my friend asked one of the cantors where we should sit since we didn't know where to go. While he couldn't really help us a guy in the front row said his parents weren't coming for the service and that we could sit there. He only had two seats but we accepted, hoping the person next to him wouldn't show. Suffice it to say no one tried to take our seats during the morning service, so we sat three feet from the cantors and within reaching distance of the bimah.

Now we found out later than this synagogue we chose has a lot of baggage, from a ritzy reputation to a politically charged, controversial (and very reputed) Rabbi: Sergio Bergman. When I told my host parents about my seats after returning home they also informed me that I'd sat in, without paying a dime, the high-roller seats costing members of that Sinagoga boatloads of cash.

Anyway we're sitting there at 9:15 awaiting a 9:30 start to the service and there are about 15 people in the Sanctuary. For those of you who know my synagogue, people are playing a distinctive version of musical chairs starting the second the Sanctuary opens, namely one in which the unlucky member of a family who drew the short straw runs to the Sanctuary and covers as many seats as possible with 10 layers of clothing they wore to Shul. The place is packed beyond belief at 10am; here, the place was empty at 9:15...at 9:30...at 10:00 people started trickling in...and not until 11am were most of the seats filled. Though to be fair the place didn't have an empty seat soonafter--entirely different atmosphere when seats are reserved.

Now the service itself was very unique. The Sinagoga is across the street from the Teatro Colon (one of the best Opera houses in the world), and it appears it felt compelled to put on a show since the Teatro is out of commission due to renovations. Instead of an organ there was a keyboard on the bimah which one of the cantors was playing. He also had a mid-sized drum and an electric accordion he pulled out at various points. There were two more cantors--they were all on the left side of the bimah--and all three of them had incredible voices (we ended up befriending the one closest to us). The prayers had such complex melodies with multiple three-part harmonies that after certain ones my muscle memory legitimately made me want to clap. Because of this certain prayers were absolutely gorgeous, but the majority of them were overdone and distasteful in my opinion. I knew almost none of the tunes and felt many of the prayers were drawn-out too much. I especially missed two tunes from my synagogue at home: unetaneh tokef and the following tune. Unetaneh tokef was unbelievably melodramatic at this synagogue...building up deep keyboard chords until the woman cantors high-pitched soft voice was anti-climactic and only made the preceding chords seem inflated. Of course I respect everyone's individual ways of praying and don't think this way was wrong, I just strongly prefer the deep voices of the congregation's chanting in unison. The following portion is the portion that more or less states "On Rosh Hashanah it is written...and on Yom Kippur it is sealed"--about as serious as a prayer can get and yet it was accompanied by a vacuous melody that really bothered me.

Despite that rant the service was really quite nice and sitting within a meter of the cantors and nearly as close to the Rabbi and gorgeous ark was an incredible experience. It was really cool to hear portenos chant hebrew and know that half way across the world we still spoke a common language of sorts. The service didn't get out until 2pm and I didn't feel overly anxious to leave at that point.

During the intermission I went with to a Pescaderia (fish market) with my friend to whose house I was going to break the fast. The place was amazing...7 blocks from my house and I had no idea it existed. Challah, sour pickles, smoked salmon, bagels and bialys, macaroons, horseradish...you name the Jewish food, they had it. Not for any small amount of money, but they had it nonetheless. So I bought a smoked salmon spread (not the lox-stock stuff though, we're talkin' big chunks of fresh salmon) as a gift for the family and we bought a bunch of food for the break fast. I've had very little trouble fasting in the recent past and this year fortunately was no exception...except for walking into this place--absolute torture.

Anyway only two of us went back for the second service and took back our unbelieveable seats. The second half was a bit less theatrical which was nice and was overall fine until the end which was a heck of an experience. Unfortunately that experience began with our getting kicked out of the front row and having to stand in the center aisle (though still in front of everyone standing; there were probably 75 people standing in back by the end). We discovered pretty quickly that about 100 of the 600 people (the place holds 500ish) came only for the last 5 minutes to hear the shofar blown. Anyway they blow the shofar--guy held the tekiah gedolah for a good minute--very impressive, and then they invited the kids to go up on the bimah in the same way they do at my synagogue at home. All the lights except the eternal light went out and the kids cracked their glowsticks and everyone broke out in song. It was a truly amazing moment as the congregation went from Jewish song to Jewish song and in the small synagogue I really felt like part of a community. It was as though a hybrid of a spontaneous version of a Bar Mitzvah Horah with a group night at camp. "Buena semana" was added into "Shavua Tov" and there was a really powerful version of Hatikvah that surprised me since during the service "Avinu Shebashamayim" wasn't even sung.

Seeing all these people who five minutes earlier were stuck in a service dying to leave and eat their huge Break-Fasts suddenly start singing together indefinitely was quite a sight to behold, but the reality is that eating, as usual, was better. The family I ate with had set the table in a very fancy way and had put all the food on nice platters, all for the three of us.

The Break Fast consisted of:
Bagels (Well, what the portenos call bagels)
Queso blanco (Hybrid of cheese and cream cheese; though cream cheese exists here)
Pastrami
Ham (I know, ironic. But ham is unescapable in Argentina. As is cheese)
Full(ish) sour pickles
Tuna salad
Lox spread (Unbelievably good)
Black and green olives
Bialys
Tomatoes

and for dessert:
6 flavors of Freddo gelato with chocolate and strawberry sauce
Sweet challah with sprinkles

Suffice it to say Yom Kippur was a success.

Okay, not so exciting post round two.

I'm taking classes at three local schools:

1) La Universidad de Buenos Aires (UBA/University of Buenos Aires)
2) La Facultad Latinoamericana de Ciencias Sociales (FLACSO/Latin American Department of Social Sciences)
3) La Universidad Catolica Argentina (UCA/Catholic University of Argentina)

All three of these schools are very different experiences.

UBA
At UBA I'm taking two courses:

"International Security"
"Urban and Social Processes: The City in Theory."

Both courses have very well-renowned professors, but given that this is the Argentine school system they literally have never stepped foot into the classroom. Instead a series of assistant professors (who are obviously qualified) teach the courses.

Walking into UBA is an experience in and of itself. Given that UBA is a school of 300,000+ students and is free for Argentine citizens, there are dozens of locations around Buenos Aires and the most eclectic group of students I've ever seen. I take classes in the main Social Sciences building as well as in the Public Health Building. The latter isn't overly exciting but the Social Sciences building is crazy.

Through my group I had a two-week shopping period in which I could try out whatever classes I wanted to at four different schools (the 4th being IUNA, an art school; also Argentine students don't have any shopping period). Now as a typically enrolled UBA student I would have access to their internet that shows where each class is located. Yet as an exchange student I had to guess which building my class was in and of course guessed wrong...the first two times. I arrived at the social sciences building the first time only to see a mass of students frantically buying notebooks and pens from street vendors on their way to class. They then ran over to a list about 10 feet in front of the door which listed every social science class, its building, and its room. Of course my first two classes weren't on there.

The big surprise at UBA (though I suppose it shouldn't be much of a surprise), however, is the socialist propaganda everywhere. Literally.




People are yelling outside the building, and in the foyer of the Social Sciences building are a number of stands where people representing different socialist organizations on "campus" are advertising themselves. Posters hang from every wall and ceiling in addition to people painting the walls...yes, during class time (though I haven't seen it while in a class). While in class, however, students will open the door and politely ask the teacher to have a moment of the classes time to spread their message. In both my classes the professors have said yes every time, including last week when there were UBA elections, meaning that I had about 7 interruptions in my International Security course.





Additionally, UBA professors are rarely on time...entering the classroom consistently 15-30 minutes late. They give their classes, which thus far have been very impressive, and then leave--so getting to speak with a professor is more difficult than in the US and they don't have office hours (this is generally because the teachers don't receive great salaries so they teach as a side job or teach many many classes). Each class at UBA has a two-hour long Teorico (Theory portion) taught by the professor, followed by a two-hour Practico (Discussion group) taught by teaching assistants. There is often no class plan for the Practico, but the students always have questions to ask and we almost always stay for the entire two hours.



Even with a 20 minute break, four hour classes are brutal. I have to buy a coffee or mate between the Teorico and Practico or it's simply impossible to stay focused.

FLACSO
Given that my program is a collaboration between CIEE and FLACSO, FLACSO is essentially the home base of the group. It's about a half-block building directly in the center of the city with a cafe, computer lab, and classrooms. Usually FLACSO is only for graduate students but for our program an exception is made. Classes at FLACSO are only for CIEE/FLACSO students and have much less of a culture-shock factor given that the professors always arrive on time and the classrooms are clean. FLACSO is definitely a middle ground between the 3 schools. At FLACSO I'm taking:

"Seminar on the Argentine Reality"
"Seminar on Service and Learning"
"Intensive Grammar Improvement"
"Listening and Conversation in Spanish"

The Seminar on Argentine Reality is really interesting, giving me a background history of Argentina in addition to an in-depth look at many aspects of Argentine society. The Service and Learning Seminar has only a 1 1/2 hour per week class, and is instead made up mostly through volunteering/interning at an organization of choice. In my case I'm interning at Intercambios, an organization that fights the spread of AIDS and strives to reduce drug-related problems. Honestly there are other issues that interest more but I wanted to work for a real Argentine organization (as opposed to Help Argentina or Idealistas which are US initiatives) so this was my best option. The Spanish courses are pretty straight-forward...as long as I'm here I need to bulk up on Spanish as much as I can.

UCA
This place is the other end of the spectrum from UBA. It's got a gorgeous location on the water in Puerto Madero and is the only of the three schools to have any form of campus. It's also a private school. Because an UBA education is free in Argentina, only the very wealthy students that want to avoid UBA take courses there...and I say this in comparison to my New England prep-school; UCA is much worse. In my case UCA is included in my program so money was not an issue, and I'm not taking any courses with UCA students so I'm not affected by the demographic of people. It is a Catholic school which for me also takes getting used to; there is a cross in each room and a strict dress code (no shorts or sandals among other things--going to be a real problem when it gets hot here).

At UCA I'm taking only one course in the PEL department (Programa de Estudios Latinoamericanos), one in which only exchange students can take classes. The course is called

"Peronism"

and is very interesting for me because, for those of you who don't know, Peronism is the political following of Juan Peron and Eva Maria Duarte Peron (Evita...yes, like the play) and is entirely unique to Argentina and its nationalist pride. The class has students from many parts of the world--New Zealand, Panama, Colombia, England, France, Ecuador, etc--and really shows the thought process behind everything Argentines do.

Overall the courses are good, though because they're so different it's hard to get accustomed to each of them. A couple of the reading in my UBA classes are in English (I guess students there are mandated to know some English), and usually those are some of the denser readings which is nice. I think that's about it...I've definitely learned a lot about Argentina through going to class here.

Lindas, hermosas, ricas...you name it, these waterfalls live up to, if not surpass, all of them. The Parque Nacional de Iguazu is easily the most beautiful place I've ever been. The Iguazu Falls are brilliant, untouched, and the vast majority of people (including myself until I researched Argentina) have no idea they exist.

I traveled to Iguazu via a 17 hour bus ride. I'd never been transported continously for that long but since each way I took an overnight bus the trip really wasn't too bad and I didn't even need to recharge my iPod for the return trip. Between movies, complimentary drinks, and talking to people the time passed quickly. As a reference point, Puerto de Iguazu (the town of Iguazu) is in the province "Misiones" which is at the very Northeastern point of Argentina. The Iguazu River actually serves as the Argentina/Brazil border though most of the vantage points exist on the Argentina side.

(FYI: I had wanted to travel to Brazil and see the Falls from that side and travel to Foz de Iguazu (Brazilian city of 30,000) but in retaliation for how the US treats Brazilians who want to visit America, Brazil charges America over $100 for a day visa (matching the US price as I understand it) and doesn't like allowing Americans to leave its borders.)

As it turns out a short walk from Puerto Iguazu leads to the Tres Fronteras (Three Borders) from which we could see the intersections of three rivers, one each side of which was a different country. Thus, from Argentina we could see both Brazil and Paraguay. We made the trek our first day in Iguazu after hanging around the hostel a bit, mustering up energy to leave.

We stayed at the Marco Polo Hostel, costing each of us $12 per night, and the place was ideal for what we were doing. About 30 of the 100 students in my group went to Iguazu though not all of them stayed in the same hostel and only a few of us booked trips together--so it was ideal to have lots of friends staying in the hostel with us while we went off and did our own thing during the day.

When we walked out of the bus station the hostel was directly across the street. I stayed in a 5 person room with friends from the program and we had free access to a pool, kitchen, ping-pong table, computers with internet, and a complimentary breakfast--all of which we used (though as the pool was freezing most people opted not to use it). I met three travelers (from Germany, France, and Spain) who traveled from Buenos Aires to Puerto Iguazu on the same bus I did and were staying at the Marco Polo so we hung out and played a lot of ping-pong and plan to hang out back in BaAs.



There are a few reasons I chose to go to Iguazu at this time of the year. First, while not cold by Connecticut standards it is still late winter in Buenos Aires and traveling from Buenos Aires to Puerto Iguazu in August is like driving from D.C. to Florida as far as climate goes. Thus, I decided to go up north during the winter and wait until it's warmer to visit the southern locations like Patagonia that currently have snow (I'm not much of a skier). Additionally, during the winter plants need to absorb less water; because of this fact the Falls have much more water in the winter than in the summer.

Anyway, our first full day there about 10 of us got up early and left for the Falls. we had splurged and signed up for the Gran Aventura (Great Adventure) which is the premium tour of the Falls, whereas other people did only the Nautical Adventure for half the price, but I'm convinced the money was well spent. We went to the Gran Aventura right when we got to the park, but had about a 20 minute wait until it embarked...so naturally a friend and I taught the others some Capoeira.





The Gran Aventura first took us on a 25 minute ride through the jungle on a 4X4 with a guide. We didn't see a lot of exotic animals which was unfortunate and even though everyone on the bus said they wanted the tour in Spanish the guide ended up speaking English most of the time. It was a nice intro to the jungle though it wasn't that exciting overall.



The second part of the Adventure was boating through the rapids of the Iguazu River. This part was certainly more adventurous, especially when we starting approaching the larger of the Falls. I definitely think the best way to first see the Falls is via boat because you really get a sense of how enormous they are when approaching them from the level of the River.



Also, note (from the pictures) the weather we had each day we went. While later in the second day the weather got cloudy, until then it was bright, sunny, dry, and around 80 degrees.

The third part of the Adventure was easily the best, not to mention something that would break dozens of safety codes in the US. Our boats took us under two of the largest waterfalls Iguazu has to offer. The water pressure is enormous with more water coming off the Iguazu Falls than any others in the world. To put things in perspective: the surface area of Iguazu's Falls are well over double that of Niagara, not to mention 50% taller at certain parts. The memory of that crazy boat ride will certainly stick with me for a long time.






After the Gran Aventura we walked through the 2nd half of the Lower Trail back toward the central area. The vistas we saw from the trail were incredible, and as we walked down the path toward the Falls they only got better. I feel like I could talk about the Falls for hours but as I think I've written enough already, I'll let some pictures do the talking for me.

















After returning from the Falls on Saturday and playing a bit of ping-pong during Happy Hour, I brought some friends to a restaurant I'd read about online called "La Rueda." The place was very upscale and expensive for portenos at 40-60 pesos an entree, but with our favorable exchange rate this upscale meal cost $12-$17. I ordered the wine for the table and spoke most with the waiter and he decided to call me "Caballero," which was quite amusing. I ordered Dorado al Ruedo (native fish caught there made as the chef recommends it) which was delicious and ironically (since Buenos Aires is a port city) the first time all trip I'd eaten fish.



On Sunday most of us (myself included) couldn't pass up returning to the Falls, especially because we had half-price return tickets on top of our 66% student discounts. We walked the entire Lower Trail, ate lunch on the premises, and then most people left to catch their buses while I stayed with a friend who was on a later bus with me and we explored a bit more.

I was actually legitimately saddened by leaving Iguazu...not that I'm generally excited about 17 hour bus rides, but I really can't get over the whole experience. I strongly encourage anyone who can to get to Iguazu at some point--it seems like one of the few majestic, natural wonders left untouched.

...then again I didn't know it existed until a few months ago, so who knows what's out there.

This past weekend my entire group went to San Antonio de Areco, a countryside in the Province of Buenos Aires (but not the City). Having been on countless orientation retreats I really wasn't too excited for the trip but it turned out great.

We got on buses at 9AM and traveled about 2 1/2 hours in double decker coach buses to this little town. When we got there we had a big lunch at a place with a basketball court and tennis courts (which I didn't get to play on but still excited me--basketball is much more popular in the Provincia). Then we went outside in our smaller groups and did a few icebreakers, but not the typical, obnoxious ones; for example we played Taboo in Spanish instead of passing around a ball and saying each others' names. After that we learned about the interest groups we can join. I'm joining the soccer club that takes us to various soccer games in Buenos Aires and acts as a team that plays once a week at night. They also taught us how to prepare mate, which was useful since at the end of the trip they gave us our own mate gourds (although made from metal) that had "CIEE-FLACSO Buenos Aires" and our names engraved in them.

After that we went to the hotels which were really more of hostels though none of us cared. We drank some wine before going to dinner and then took over a restaurant with our hundred people. Afterwards people did a number of different things. Since there was so much wood in the town I suggested we start a bon fire in a fire pit by the hotel, which some of my roommates in La Naranja Hoteleria did. We hung out there for a while and then I headed over to the main bar in the town where a bunch of people from the group were and listened to a live band playing all '60s and '70s American music. It felt great to take a break from drowning in Argentine Spanish and know every lyric to every song (Beatles, Pink Floyd, Beach Boys, etc).

Naturally according to the Argentine schedule we had to wake up a few hours after getting back from the bar so we all got up exhausted to find that the town had no water. Apparently the inundation of 100+ students used up all the small town's water supply and broke their system. Between that and one of the double-decker buses hitting and breaking a power line, I felt awful about the impact we had on the place--but we did spend a lot of money there which makes me feel a bit better about it.

Anyway we ended up going to an estancia (ranch) that although now meant for tourists showed us a bit about the Gaucho (sort of cowboys from the Provincia) life. When we got there they basically told us to walk around and do anything we wanted which was great since we just wanted to relax. There were a couple hammocks people napped on, a bunch of games (the only ones I knew were croquet and bocce) for people to play, lots of food, and a bunch of horses. So I can now say I've rode a horse...not incredibly exciting but it was fun to try. Then I played soccer on one of the large expanses of grass with a bunch of people until we popped the ball.





The people working there continuously brought out empanadas and choripan (chorizo and pan [bread] that's a typical sandwich) that were really good and of course we ate far too many of them before our massive asado lunch/dinner. They had a large fire with meat hanging over it and a huge grill full of meat all of which was served to us with sauteed onions, potatoes, and a big salad.



After the food we went outside and listened to a couple guitarists sing a couple songs...anyone recognize this authentic Spanish tune?...



...I did say it was meant for tourists. That said there were a lot more traditional components to the day. After a couple songs two dancers came out and danced in a very old-fashioned style. Of course we were then brought up to dance. I and the girl I was sitting next to were actually the first two called up but they called up a number of other people to do it with us so it wasn't too bad. They did a little Samba and had two people in our group improv samba next to the dancers and the two people that went up were hilarious together...quite a sight to see. And of course out of everyone there the woman dancer decided to choose my terribly dancing self as her partner for one of the last dances.



Lastly we watched the Gauchos play some traditional campo (country) games and horse tricks. Easily my favorite of these is Pato, which means "duck" because it used to be played with a duck as the ball. They now play with the equivalent of a very heavy, slightly smaller soccer ball with 8 handles, and the object of the game is to get the ball through a circle (think of a slightly larger basketball rim perpendicular to the ground on wither side of the field). They play on horses and pass the ball around, a lot like water polo but obviously out of the water. Some people in the group (I wish I'd been able to) played on foot but things got pretty physical and injury-prone fast.



Martin (one of the Gauchos) as Zorro.



Definitely was a great trip and I got to know a number of people in the group a bit better. I'm still really impressed at how organized CIEE is and how well they've designed the program in a way that suits what we want to do.