I'm sick and making lists.

Things I miss about the United States

1. My family and friends: people who’ve known me for years.
2. What I consider to be "normal" hours for living, working
   and playing.
3. Reliability: a plan is a plan and it happens on time.
4. Dating as something to be taken seriously.
5. Salad dressing, Mexican food and big cups of coffee.
6. Clean streets, clean cities, clean people: cleanliness.
7. Owning a car and not being required to use public transportation.
8. Wearing high heels and having flat surfaces to walk on.
9. How polite and professional people tend to be.
10. Financial stability and a reliable currency: making dollars.

Things I heart about Argentina

1. How easy it is to make amazing friends here.
2. Independence and solitude: my life is so very mine.
3. An interesting job that challenges me personally and professionally.
4. Discovering the world in Spanish – little accomplishments happen every day. Like a remix of my worldview.
   
5. Sitting and talking over coffee for two hours without glancing at my watch.
6. That no one cares if you’re late… in fact it’s odd if you’re on time. Especially for work.
   
7. The incredible sweets: facturas and dulce de leche? Mmmm…
8. Walking everywhere and truly experiencing the weather.
   
9. The up-front, frank Argentine way of relating to the world.
10. That people want to chat with me because I’m unique here and I talk funny.

New Chapter: Ridiculoso!

I feel like since arriving in Buenos Aires I’ve lived four or five distinct chapters. Every few months I end up with a new group of friends, a crazy new project, a big move or a romantic disaster. Once again, this month I’ve managed to tip my little world upside down and I’m embarking on yet another new chapter.

This time the setting is the new and upgraded apartment in Barrio Norte/Recoleta. It’s a busy spot in the city – faulting the trees that populated my street in Caballito – but it’s incredibly convenient. I can hop on a bus or the subway and be to work in 30 minutes. Phenomenal!

The apartment also comes complete with a set of four solid walls, my own little bathroom, lots of great storage, a terrace, a black cat named Bruja and a fabulous new roommate named Ali (featured below). I’ve ended my permanent camping situation and I’m more or less in love (it even has a microwave!).


Along with a new location, I’ve begun making lots of effort to replace my girlfriends who mercilessly left me here a few months ago. As a result I’ve discovered some new and amazing ladies for adventure hunting. I’m also seeing an Argentine who is about the sweetest human being on the planet and is keeping a smile on my face. We’ll just have to see how that goes before I tell you more stories about him.

And the big announcement:

I’ve decided to change the name of my blog to “Ridiculoso.”
This is a word that I invented.

The real translation for “that’s completely ridiculous” is “es completemente ridiculo!” but I always want to add an extra syllable to “ridiculo” and thus this has become my signature error. As an invented word, it just works… and I think with all the ups, downs and craziness of the last year it’s an appropriate title for my self-musings!

An Expensive Accent

My last a post was about how lovely life can be... but today I’m going to post a rant about this stinkin’ country and how everyone is always trying to rip off foreigners. Really! Taking advantage is an Argentine specialty.

I am moving soon, so I need to arrange for a little moving truck to come get my bed and my small collection of possessions and take them to the new apartment. So I called a moving company close to my house to ask about prices. They quoted me $400 pesos for the move – which I knew was ridiculous. I asked the lady on the phone, “What exactly does that price include?” and she was like, “Oh, don’t worry! Everything! We’ll send three people and move everything.” What? Three people to move a bed? $400 pesos for an hour or two of work? You have to be kidding me. She refused to give me an explanation of the the pricing breakdown – no, that was just the price.

So I asked my male Argentine co-worker to call. For him, the price was $40 pesos an hour for the truck, $18 pesos an hour for workers to help move (he was able to request just one) and $3 pesos for a flight of stairs. Yup, grand total will be under $150 pesos.

Sorry, but that just makes me mad. So I’ve got an accent. That doesn’t mean that a) I’m rich, nor b) I’m an idiot. I can communicate perfectly fine in Spanish: I understood everything said to me on the phone, and that stupid woman understood everything I said, even if it included a couple grammatical errors. I’ve been here long enough that this treatment is simply infuriating, for crying out loud!

It’s a well-known fact the Argentines love to “aprovechar” or take advantage of us foreigners. What makes me mad is that I’m not running around with dollars: I’m as poor as any of them are. Apparently I've just got an expensive accent.

Oh, yeah, THIS is why I'm here.

Yesterday I felt like I was on vacation. One of those magic, happy little moments when contentment was tangible, sitting in my stomach like a piece of delicious chocolate cake. This city wears me out sometimes, and it’s so gratifying to have a joyful expat experience and remember why I’m here: it’s all about discovering new experiences.

First of all, I found an apartment! What an incredible relief. After running all over the city and responding to a hundred ads, I found a spot that’s going to be a definite upgrade. It’s very centrally located, so I’ll cut way down on my commute to work and the travel time to go out with friends. I’m closer to everything that I like to do here in Buenos Aires. It’s with just one roommate instead of two and the department is much bigger. It’s located on a busy street, but it’s an internal apartment, so it’s quiet and mellow. I have a giant room with my own bathroom and big sliding glass doors that open onto a quaint little terrace (I’ve got a vision of myself laying out in the sun and finally getting a tan, haha!). I’ll be making the move over the next two weeks. It will be nice to change location – there’s always a sense of a little fresh start and a new chapter with a move.

I also joined the couchsurfing network, which is a cool program including an active social group here in Buenos Aires. We did an empanada event yesterday and I learned how to make the most signature of all Argentine foods. I’m still not a pro at folding the little edges of the empanadas, but I’m going to have to practice and aim for perfection, jaja! I also met people from all over the world: the US, England, Australia, Argentina (of course) and enjoyed chatting away and making new friends.

Then to celebrate the new apartment, I went out with a good friend, Greg, who is in town right now visiting. We had a delicious steak dinner and went out dancing afterward at Kika. Love that club. I have to say my favorite part is that they’ve got a well-ventilated dance floor so you don’t sweat to death and suffocate. It was a blast!

Yes, my Saturday was a vacation. Quite lovely. Tonight I’m going to go and learn how to play “Truco” the Argentine card game based on lying and tricking your opponents. Should be a good time, and I love cards.

Cheers to a new chapter, new friends and the magic Argentina can offer on a sunny day.

Update from my Concrete Jungle

I’ve been a bad blog owner and not written for far too long. So much has been happening – I feel like life is just a whirlwind right now. First I had my fabulous friend Lisa come and visit me and she and I trekked all over the city playing tourist. It was marvelous to have her here and get to chat girl talk. A little piece of home.

The ladies going out for the night: Meg, who also has made Argentina her home, me, Devon (who is leaving soon, so sad) and my visitor Lisa!

Right now I’m back to “real life” again: running all over the city trying to find a new apartment. It’s a little complicated, since renting a place in Argentina is not the easiest task. Renting like an Argentine is difficult, since you have to a) sign a lease for 2 years and b) need a “guarantor” or someone who owns property in Argentina be your co-signer. I was able to talk my work into being the guarantor and explored the offerings, but it is simply too big of an expense for my budget. First you have to pay the Immobiliaria, or rental agency, two months commission and then you also have to put down a one-month deposit. If you break your lease after a year, you loose the deposit and if you break it after six months, you have to pay an additional half month rent. Whoa. Top that off with the need to furnish a place, and it just ended up being a) too big of a commitment (I don’t know if I can love you for two more years, Argentina) and b) way out of my price range.

So I’m stuck doing what we foreigners do here: renting a furnished room in someone else’s apartment. You’re going to laugh: the main source for a roommate hunt here is Craigslist! They’re expensive, though – especially compared to my Argentine salary. It’s a challenge: I earn like an Argentine but I’m getting smacked with foreigner prices. Which means house hunting is a daunting task requiring lots of emails, phone calls and visits running all over the city. While I’d love to stay in my neighborhood, there doesn’t seem to be anything here. I did find one apartment I like and requested the room, but I’m waiting to hear back to see if I’ll get it.

Let me tell you that living in Argentina is not American-style comfortable. We’re talking about ancient buildings (swarming with broken paraphernalia), old furniture and a creepy roommate selection. While I did find a pretty good spot with a charming Argentine roommie, we can’t call it perfection. It’s all about deciding what’s most important and just how much you can compromise on the other items. I picked privacy and independence, so we’ll see just what I end up with.

That’s my little update! Living in the concrete jungle and trying to survive. I promise to adore my air conditioner even more when I get home. This experience has certainly taught me to appreciate how lovely we’ve got it as Americans (despite the political mess I hear is happening up there in my home country right now).

Besos! Hopefully I’ll be posting good news soon!

Connected

After months of problems, we finally have the WiFi working at our house again! I’m truly excited and can’t believe I’ve been disconnected for so long. It really makes me appreciate this “modern” technology that we have. No WiFi meant no chats with friends and fam, and made me realize just how far away I am. It’s miraculous that an internet connection can bring me so much closer to the ones I love and adore.

I’ll be posting regular blogs again, and hopefully talking to all the people I miss back in the states again soon. Hugs, kisses, love and all those pink and blue happy thoughts. Beso!

Argentine Medicine: The curiosity and the trauma.

Classic Argentine gestures indicating:
Frustration, Ridiculousness and Watch Out!

It turns out that I’m still alive… but I haven’t written for a long time due to lack of internet and an evil lingering cold that I’ve been fighting the last two months. Don’t think I haven’t been occupied, though. I’ve been enjoying the Argentine healthcare system (this is that moment where I wish sarcasm actually translated via blogs, jaja!). Here’s what I’ve got for you:

Maybe I’m a bit nervous to begin with, but it’s been a little traumatic trying to navigate Argentine medicine. Let’s start with the good news: I have absolutely amazing medical insurance. Everything has been completely free, and that’s phenomenal. I suppose I can’t really complain too much considering the above-mentioned detail, but I’m going to anyway.

We’ll start with routine medical care. As soon as I got insurance, I scheduled a regular doctor visit and just picked a clinic conveniently located next to my house. I should have known better: Randomly picking a doctor in any country is a bad idea. So I found myself in a dirty, old clinic waiting next to howling children for hours. Finally, I was called into my new doctor’s office—and he was impressively old. I mean, people that old don’t normally leave their beds in the morning, let alone practice medicine. As much as I’d love to adopt him as my new grandfather, his medical advice was far past expiration date and I think I’ll continue shopping around.

Going to the gynecologist, on the other hand, was a lovely experience. I got a cute, chatty porteña who told me to drop my panties and began the routine items we ladies are all used to. The only odd detail: instead of her keeping my cultures, she gave them to me to carry to the laboratory nearby. While I did my best to keep them safe in my giant purse, I couldn’t help thinking that in the US we’d be a little concerned about contamination. However, I liked her enough I’m not going to whine too much.

As I mentioned, I’ve also been sick. In fact, I’ve been really sick. For a long time. After developing a stuffy nose and a cough for the third time in the last two months I decided I wanted some good drugs and asked my co-workers what they do when they’re sick. Apparently here you don’t go visit your doctor for a cold; instead you have two options: (a) either “order-in” and a doctor will come to your house or (b) go to the emergency room. While option (a) sounds convenient, there’s a 48-hour window so if you’re like me and can’t stay in your house for 48 consecutive hours, you’re left with option (b).

My first ancient practioner experience demonstrated that random point-and-choose isn't the best technique for choosing a medical facility, so I asked around and ended up in an ER my friend recommended. It was filled with stuffy noses, appalling coughs and all other manner of strange afflictions. After waiting an hour and a half the youngest little doctor I have ever seen called me into a back room where I timidly purched on the edge of a cot, next to a convulsing man. While she tried to figure out how to turn on the light to look at my throat, I described my on-and-off illness and told her I was worried that I might have some problem that I couldn’t shake with my own immune system. She nodded gravely and then told me we were going to do some tests.

Armed with little slips of paper, I ventured off, asking directions to different sections of the hospital. First, I had a throat culture to verify I didn’t have strep throat (this seems normal enough). Next, I wandered downstairs… for x-rays? Since they’re called “ecolograms” here I didn’t actually realize that’s what I was getting into. Interestingly enough, I’ve never had anyone x-ray me for a sore throat and a cough before, but apparently in Argentina they need to see your skull to diagnose a cold. The x-ray technician was a young kid with a euro-mullet who began hitting on me shamelessly. “Please put your arms over your head, stand sideways, and by the way, do you have a boyfriend?” When we were done he let me know that my photos had turned out absolutely beautiful and that he had all my information “except your phone number!” I coughed and gave him my loveliest sick-face smile.

Returning to the main floor clutching my sexy x-rays and throat culture results, I began searching for my little tiny doctor. Apparently, she was done for the day. Instead, I was attended to by another young male doctor. Unfortunately, this one wasn’t charmed and didn’t want my phone number. Instead, he seemed infuriated by my inability to speak quickly. Due to the masses of people waiting, he was obviously in a hurry. At this point I had been there about three hours, I felt awful and I had a doctor huffing at me as I attempted to explain, in my nervous Spanish, why I was in his office. So I did something really productive: I started crying. The doctor didn’t care: in fact, he seemed even more irritated. How dare I cry when he had other people to attend to? He glanced at my x-rays, ordered me to breath, listened to my chest, prescribed me some allergy medicine and ceremoniously shoved me out the door. Three pharmacies later I finally managed to purchase my medicine and headed home on the bus with my x-ray souvenirs. Maybe next time I’ll try option (a).

This week I was also privileged enough to experience even more interesting Argentine medicine. My first ancient doctor had ordered blood tests and my lovely gynecologist informed me that uterus ultrasounds are a routine part of feminine healthcare. So Thursday morning I found myself in a bustling laboratory, with a urine sample in my purse, prepared for uncomfortable poking and prodding.

Actually, I have to say that the uterus ultrasound is a good idea since often feminine maladies aren’t discovered until you’ve got a serious problem. It was incredibly painless (although I couldn’t help but giggle like a 15 year-old when she put a lubricated condom on a wand and stuck it up my vagina) and I even got to see my special lady parts on TV. I left with more souvenir photos—even sexier than the chest x-rays! I get to go back for the blood test results in a few days and then I can schedule my follow-up visits…

It seems like the entire medical experience is not just the system, or the insurance, or the practitioner… but also a bit of random luck. At first I was feeling terrified by the whole experience, but I have to admit that my fear has morphed into curiosity as I’ve discovered they do so many odd new little things here. I suppose there are good and bad doctors everywhere… and getting all of the routine items checked off is a pain no matter where you live.

Next up? The dentist. I’ll let you know how it goes.