Subte Sensation

I would like to take a moment to talk about the Subte. This, for my loved ones back in the states, is the Metro or Subway here in Buenos Aires. Interestingly enough, I've never taken the Subway in the US, and I've only used the Metro in Europe a handful of times; so for me, the Subte experience is isolated and unique. It simply is what it is. And it's worth writing about.

Months ago, back when I was living my normal little American life, I would get in my car every day. It was the same experience every day. I mean, the weather might be different, I might be listening to different music; but on the whole I knew exactly what to expect from my daily commute.

This is not the case with the Subte. Each day I ride Line D, then switch to Line C to get to work. The experience lasts about 30 minutes (20 on a good day and 40 on a bad one!). Instead of being a controlled environment, I am at the mercy of the hordes of people flowing through public transportation each morning. Mondays are not so bad. I go to work early: leaving the house and entering Subte-land at about 7:30am. On Mondays I am brave enough to bring a cup of coffee and there is a possibility I will actually get to sit down. Claiming a seat on the Subte is like receiving an entire box of chocolate bon bons.

Tuesday through Thursday I enter the Subte at rush hour: 8:00am. Do not bring coffee. Leave your expectations at home. Try and take off your coat so you won't have sweat running down your back. Prepare to get squished. My body is sandwiched between countless others for a full 20 minutes. Elbows jabbing, old men grunting and pushing, people falling as we come careening to each stop. Some days I stand next to a woman, my nose so close to her that I can see each pore on her face. If I'm lucky she smells nice and I can look at her fascinating earrings and contemplate her hairstyle for the 20-minute ride. If I'm not lucky I'm pushed up against some large, smelly man wreaking of the night before, cigarettes, and morning breath. I'll attempt to advert my gaze from his dandruff-covered shoulders and hope desperately that the stench won't rub off. On days I'm really lucky I'll get to watch couples making out and groping one another (Argentines are unafraid of PDA), or a tiny child sleeping soundly on the seat, his little mouth open and drool running down his rosy cheeks.

So this is my tribute to the Subte. It touches me (literally) every day. It pushes me, shoves me, assails me with its smells, sight and sounds, but most important it gets me and the other throngs of Argentines to our destinations. As long as I don't get knocked over or touched by an armpit, I guess I can't really complain.

Just getting started...

My favorite: Natalie. She's keeping me sane!

Well, it’s been a bit of a process. I spent a month in school, enjoying friends and stressing over the workload and the uncertainty of my adventure. Then I began to have panic attacks realizing that the end of school meant I needed a job.

After the first few days of job hunting I became acutely aware that business here in Argentina is conducted completely different than in the USA. While employers in my country are very organized, professional and reliable, the employers here in Argentina are incredibly friendly, warm, unorganized, difficult to contact and “fluid” about their business. Remarkably, they accomplish everything that needs to be done; just not in the way and on the time schedule I’m accustomed to. This means that job searching was very stressful for me when I first started. People didn’t call me back. They said I had a job and then I didn’t. I went (go—this is still happening) to pick up materials and I’ve got half of what I need, or the wrong thing. No one has the books they are supposed to.

After the first week of my job search I discovered that relaxing was not only a good idea; but a survival technique here in Argentina. I surrendered my expectations and my timeline and began to try and just have faith that if I went on lots on interviews, smiled pretty and kept up my normal work ethic I would eventually be working sufficient hours to cover my rent. So far, I’m doing pretty well. The schedule is awful, but I do have a job. People want their English classes early in the morning at 8:00 or 8:30 to 10:00, then at noon until about 2:00 and then in the evenings after 6:00. This means that yesterday I worked from 8:30am until 9:00pm and only managed to log in 6 hours of work. Three large breaks in my day makes it disappear in an uncomfortable fashion; but I’m going with the flow. As time continues, I hope that I’ll be able to fill in the gaps with extra classes. Right now I’m working about 18 hours a week and I’m hoping that in the next month or so I can increase those hours to around 25 to 30. We will see! It’s not hard to get classes, but it IS hard to get classes that coordinate as far as scheduling goes. I’ve got all the prime hours filled; now it’s a matter of waiting for the “off-hours” classes to turn up and being the candidate that receives those classes. While patience is not a virtue of mine; it appears to be essential. Let’s call this mandatory personal development.

Me in my new room!

Along with the job search, concurrently I was looking for an apartment. This was also quite the endeavor as most places are owned by a landlord who rents out to students and does the most minimal upkeep possible. I saw some completely filthy living spaces.

I’ve ended up with three male roomies: an Argentine, a Canadian, and one other man from Holland. While living with lots of men sounds little scary, they are very, very mellow. I’ve appreciated the lack of drama, and everyone is very independent and busy. Aside from the fact that my room is above a noisy street and I need earplugs at night, I like my place! Bonus: I have my own bathroom and a full-size bed (this is an absolute treasure here in Argentina)!

My Argentine roommate Adolfo on our patio.

So that is the update. I’m getting sick again so I’ve been sucking down orange juice in my favorite café this morning. Love that OJ here is ALWAYS fresh-squeezed. I still feel like I’m adjusting, but the pieces are slowly falling into place. As exciting as it has been arriving here, doing things that are hard in America (job hunting, house hunting) has been even more difficult here and I’m feeling a little exhausted as well. I miss everyone and I’m so sad I am not on vacation with the rest of my family right now! Have extra fun for me guys! Un beso grande a todos!