Domingo

Hola! Sunday, Sunday. I slept til noon today! I was saying to my friends last night, as we were leaving a looong dinner, "I wish I could sleep til noon tomorrow." And I did! I haven´t done that in ages.

So here´s a rundown of the last couple of days for you...

Friday after class, a large group of people from school went out for happy hour. We went to a bar with a large outside seating section and sat for a couple hours, enjoying the unbelievable weather, a nice breeze, a few cervezas, and speaking in English. It´s so nice to have a small bit of normalcy every once in a while.

I love talking to the other students. Everyone is so like-minded about things - important things - no matter what country they are from. Travelers must all have similar outlooks and senses of adventure because everyone sort of "gets it". And everyone is so interesting. So many different backgrounds and experiences.

After drinks, I had to go home for dinner with Rosa. Steak again! Her son, whose name escapes me now, came over after we had finished eating. He´s about 40 and speaks very little English, and I was very overwhelmed with his presence in the house. I had a very hard time communicating with him. It was, however, very entertaining to watch and listen to him talk to Rosa. I understand so much more than I can speak right now, so I was able to get the gist of their conversation. I just couldn´t join in when invited. We talked about Norah Jones, the difference between American pound and English pound, my new camera, etc. It was very amusing at one point because he told Rosa to ask me if I wanted to go to some party with him after he left, and she said something like, no, she does not want to do that. And they thought I had no idea what was being said! But very funny that Rosa is so overprotective of me. And very sweet. And in truth, I did not have any interest in going to the party. Yikes.

I had made plans to meet up with my friends Kate and Nicole on Saturday morning, so I walked myself over to their apartment around 11. Kate and Nicole are traveling together; they met a couple years ago working with the Nature Conservancy through Americorps. Nicole now lives in Eugene, Oregon, and is looking for new jobs for when she returns to the States in two months, and Kate lives in Bend, Oregon, and leads adolescents on "wilderness therapy" ventures.

We took the subway down to La Boca, a neighborhood in the Southeastern section of the city, where we were hoping to go to the Museo Historica Nacional and just generally wander around. The museum was unfortunately closed for renovations (as are several museums here), but we had a good day nevertheless.

We ducked into a little cafe for some lunch, and I, in the spirit of being adventurous, ordered a sandwich off the menu without knowing what I was ordering (there was no description on the menu other than it being a hot sandwich). And that is the last time I am going to do that because what I got on my plate was what we call in the South, chicken fried steak. Blech. It had ham and cheese and tomato sauce on top, too. (Everything here has ham and cheese on top. I do not understand this custom whatsoever.) I half-heartedly ate a few bites of the steak, ate all of the ham and cheese, and all of the fries.

After lunch, we decided to try to find the waterfront. On our way over, we met a Japanese couple, who heard us speaking English and asked us if we were American. Us too, they said. I will sound so ignorant saying this, but I am going to say it anyway. I was so surprised to hear them identify themselves as Americans. Something about being in a foreign country makes you start generalizing people as from here or from there, and it´s easy to look at someone and make a guess, based on what they look like, of where they are from. I had a similar experience the other day when I passed an Asian couple walking down the street, and I was shocked to overhear them speaking in Spanish. I should know better. I lived in New York, didn´t I?

We wandered into an area of La Boca called La Cominita, which is basically a tourist trap. Just several streets full of vendors selling "authentic Argentinian" stuff. Don´t you want a t-shirt with Homer Simpson dressed up as Che Guevara? They are giving the people what they think the people want, and the people think they want it, too.

The riverfront was just beyond La Cominita, and let me tell you, the water is FOUL. I have never seen such pollution. There was a section of water in between a docked boat and the wall that acutally looked solid it was so full of waste. Nicole was saying that apprently efforts to clean up the water have stopped because it would be easier to turn the water into diesel fuel than to clean it. I am not sure if that is true, but it´s disgusting either way.

After wandering around for a long, long while, we decided to rest for a bit and meet up later for a nice dinner. And it was SO nice. I told you that it´s a late night culture here, but I didn´t believe it myself until I witnessed the restaurant last night totally empty when we arrived at 9:15 PM. By 9:45, the place was packed. I guess, though, if the sun doesn´t go down til 9:30 PM, you don´t feel the need to start your evening until then.

It was my kind of Saturday night. We sat at the restaurant for about four hours, eating and drinking and talking and eating more and drinking more and talking more. We shared a salad, each got an entree, shared two bottles of wine, and each got a dessert, and the meal came to $33 US, after tax and tip, per person. And it was a NICE place. The kind of place I can´t afford to go to in New York.

I am so overwhelmed by how interesting and smart these girls are. They ask me about myself and I want to crawl under a rock. I feel so boring! But it´s funny because they are interesting and smart in a very different way than some people in New York are. Their work at the Nature Conservancy sounds amazing, and they learned so much about...nature...during their time there. They were apparently both on "fire crew" for a while, during which they intentionally set forest fires. They explained to me that wildfires like those that happened earlier this fall in California happen because small forest fires, which the forest needs occasionally to clear out all the brush, etc., have been continually put out, via the Smoky the Bear policy. Smoky taught us all that forest fires are BAD, when in actuality, the forest needs them to stay balanced. If you are interested in this subject, please do some research on it yourself, because I am certain I have butchered their explanation of the topic. I am such a ninny nonny about all things scientific.

Anyway, it was a fantastic evening, and as we walked out of the restaurant Nicole said how nice it was to make new friends. So nice.

Oh! And as we looked up at the moon on the walk home, Kate and Nicole explained to me how the moon is upside down here, and it is! I hadn´t noticed until they said something about it, but then as I looked up, the man in the moon was on the wrong side! Crazy this world is. I wish I could understand it all.

So today is Domingo. Sunday. Nicoleta moved out of the house this morning, and Gerard, a 40 year old Swiss guy, moved in. Rosa has moved me into Nicoleta´s old room, which is much bigger, with a double bed and TV, because, she says, I AM FIRST! Ah, Rosa. Such a dear.

I have had a lazy day so far, sitting out on Rosa´s patio reading and relaxing and listening to the Tango music Rosa plays in the house. I wish I could explain what it feels like to listen to this music and live this life. I am in another world.

Okay, I am going to leave here now and wander around until I find a nice looking cafe to have a very late lunch and do some studying! Love to you all.

Pictures!

Happy Friday, everyone! As a reward for making it through the week, you get...pictures!

http://picasaweb.google.com/ellen.bucy

Enjoy!

Nightlife, etc.

I think Rosa is very concerned that I have not been "going out" in the evenings, and I am having a difficult time explaining to her that I came here to learn Spanish and experience culture, not to go running around in clubs and getting drunk. That, I can do anywhere I like. Sorry to say, but getting drunk is getting drunk, no matter where you are. I know, I know. I can hear all of my girlfriends sighing deeply right now. Debbie Downer! But this is my trip, and I will do with it what I like!

And it´s not that I don´t want to go out at all. It´s just that I am trying to get my bearings, and rowdy clubs are not on my list of things I want to get out of this experience (or any experience for that matter). Been there.

But I understand why Rosa is concerned. This is a night-life culture. Dinner is rarely served before 9 PM, so going out before midnight is unheard of. And I think Rosa is used to a certain kind of American student. Probably a college-aged one, who still has a few kinks they need to work out of their system.

Last night, however, I did go out. My school arranges different activities for us every night, and last night it was tango lessons and then dancing afterwards. The tango class was something of a disaster. Too many people, lots of stepping on feet, dancing awkwardly with Argentinians who cannot understand you and whom you cannot understand. I danced with one guy, probably about my age, who was very silly and kept giggling as he rammed me into other couples, and then with another older man, who was very proud and rico suave. Eek. But it was fun to be out with the other students. And the tango teachers did a little demonstration, which was very cool. I definitely want to go see a tango show while I am here. Everyone here, including Rosa, is obsessed with it.

After the tango lesson, we piled into cabs to go to some club (also arranged by the school). Oy. It was a riot. It was GINORMOUS. I cannot think of anywhere I have been that was this big. Maybe some places in London, but nowhere in New York. It was a huge warehouse type space with three balconies looking over the central dance floor. And the music! Classic. Terrible 80s and 90s American pop. Oh, and a few of today´s goodies. Madonna, Prince, Kriss Kross (Jump, jump! I´m not kidding.) were all on the list. The other American girls and I were looking at each other like, what is this? Come to Argentina for this? But we had a good time being very silly and combatting the VERY aggressive Argentian men. (Very much like Italian men, full of bravado and machismo and certain that if they tell you you are beautiful enough times, you will just turn into a puddle at their feet. Ha!)

I had fun, but I tried to explain to Rosa this morning that it was amusing but not really for me. She is all into psychologizing me, which I am slightly uncomfortable with. Her assessment of me at the moment is that I am very quiet and very serious, but very sweet. Rosa, I am quiet because I cannot speak to you! But in truth, she probably has me pegged. She told me this morning that I am different from all the young people because I no like to go in the clubs. How can I explain to her that I am not in college and want to just be calm and focus on Spanish?

Rosa is a dear, though. She has breakfast laid out for me every morning when I wake up (just cereal and fruit and coffee - Argentinians do not eat breakfast, probably because they eat dinner so late!), and fixes a lovely dinner for me every night (steak or chicken or pasta, always with soup or salad before - good thing I am walking so much). She is constantly fussing over me. Do you sleep good? Do you want water? Do your air conditioner work good?

The communication with her (and other Spanish speakers) is beginning to get frustrating. There are so many things I want to say, but I do not have the words! She asked me this morning, in Spanish, if I was tired, and I, as usual, looked at her hopefully and smiled blankly (my I don´t get it face), and she said, ¨You MUST remember: Estoy casanda! I am tired. You MUST learn.¨Rosa! I am trying! I just woke up. My brain es no funcionado yet. But she is right.

And I am gradually remembering some things. And listening to other Spanish speakers is becoming slightly more clear. And gradually, signs on the street have meaning. I walked by La Relojeria the other day, and before I could see in the windows I thought, this must be a watch shop (reloj is clock or watch in Spanish). And I was right! Baby steps.

There are too many things to write about at the moment, so I am going to spew a few random details at you. The weather is heaven. Hot, hot during the day, but unbelievably pleasant in the evenings. The sun doesn´t go down til 9:30 pm. Heaven. There are these amazing birds I saw in la jardin the other morning. They are small and bright green and make quite a racket! Las Cotorras, they are called. Beautiful. Mi escuela is a large old, beautiful building. I love it there. It reminds me a lot of the older buildings at IU. Beautiful domed ceilings and hard wood floors. My teacher is GREAT. He is very patient with us (and we are whittled down to three now - Charlie, the London guy, decided he was a bit too advanced for us), and I feel like I understand Spanish the most when I am in class. The class is conducted entirely in Spanish. Occasionally, if he can tell we are getting really frustrated, he will give a brief explanation in English, but otherwise, Spanish all the way. As it should be. $300 pesos is $98 US, and it goes quite a ways. I withdrew $300 pesos on Sunday when I arrived, and I have $110 pesos left. A very large (large!) bottle of Isenbeck beer last night was $5 pesos. Divide that by 3...that´s like $1.50 US. Nothing. I think I can make the monies last me a very long time down here!

Okay, I need to go find un cafe to have un cafe and to complete mi tarea (homework) before class. Oh, I still have not downloaded my photos. I was hoping to do that during this session, but unfortuantely none of the computers´usb ports are working, so...another time. Ciao!

Cemetaries and Conjugacions

Hello, hello! Day three here, and lots to fill you in on!



Yesterday was a LONG day. I got up around 7 AM (which is, by the way 4 AM EST - a much bigger time difference than I was expecting), had a quick breakfast of corn flakes and a banana and coffee, and then hopped onto the number 12 bus to take me to escuela. Mi casa is in the northern section of Palermo, on Av. Santa Fe, and the school is east of there, in Recoleta. It´s about a 20 minute bus ride. You can also take the subway, but Rosa has advised me against it (basically just because it´s hot and crowded and you can´t be guaranteed a seat). We were supposed to be there at 8 AM for a placement test, but they actually only made those of us who spoke a little Spanish take the test. In other words, I did not have to take the test because I know nothing! So it was milling around for about an hour, waiting on the test-takers to finish up, and then they handed us each a text book with our class assignments. (Mine is 2 PM - 6 PM; I think I will adjust to this schedule rather well!)



There were probably 50 or so new students yesterday, and they are from everywhere! There are maybe 6 other Americans (all from the West - three from San Francisco, 2 from Portland, 1 frm Aspen), but I´d say the majority of the students are easily from Sweden! Of course, those smart Swedes all speak English, too. There are a few Canadians, at least one Frenchman, an older German couple, some Swiss folks, English, etc. A very diverse group, I think.



Anyway, after I got my class assignment, it was about 9:30 AM, so I had quite a bit of time to kill before class. So I went and sat down in a nearby park to gather myself and study my map (I am trying very hard to not be the tourist standing on the sidewalk, staring confused at my enormous map.) I discovered that my school is very close to the famous Recoleta Cemetary, so I made my wondered my way up there.



The cemetary is amazing. It´s all enclosed by high walls, but it´s right smack in the middle of everything. From the sidewalks of the trendy little neighborhood surrounding it, you can see the tops of the monuments peaking out, marble and elegant and imposing. I walked probably halfway around it before finding the entrance, which is a large white gate of a thing, with the words, ¨Requiescant in Pace¨ (I will let you translate that one yourselves) written in large gold letters above.



Once inside, the cemetary is its own city. There are literally little walkways, like roads, that form a grid throughout the cemetary, so you can just wander around forever, up one path, down another. There are shady trees lining the main drags, and there are cats everywhere! The monuments range from old and crumbling to modern and sleek, and each one is different. Most of them are very tall, and many have an angel perching on the stop of a tall spire, with its hands in prayer up to the sky. I love marble sculptures like this and took many (many!) pictures, which I am going to try to download later today. I did not see Eva Peron´s grave. I know, I know. But I felt kind of "eh" about it, and I couldn´t find it, and I didn´t feel like going to the trouble of going up to someone and saying, "Eva Peron?"



After that, I popped into a bookshop and picked up a Spanish-English dictionary (no, I did not have one yet), and a Spanish phrasebook, which has been very handy so far. I then had maybe an hour or so to kill before class, and I was sweaty and exhausted, and wanted to just cool my heels, study my new books, and have some agua! I wandered into a little cafe, and geez, I didn´t even know how to ask for a table. I stood in the middle of the cafe rather awkwardly for a minute, not knowing whether to seat myself or ask, and finally the waitstaff, gathered at the bar, looked at me expectantly, and I muttered, "No habla Espanol?" They looked at me like, oh shit, and then I boldly said, "Quisiera un cafe" (I would like a coffee), and a waitress finally motioned for me to sit anywhere I would like, and so I did.

While sitting in the cafe, I found the phrase for, "I would like the bill, please" so there were no more awkward moments there.

I had to be back at school at 1 PM for a welcome lunch, which consisted of egg salad and ham sandwiches - that´s together, not separate. Interesting. The staff of the school introduced themselves and yada yada.

Then we were dismissed for class. They have split us up into classes of 4! In my class is Emily from London, Charlie from London, and Camilla from Sweden (though she is curently living in Amsterdam), and oh yes, Juan Manuel, el profesor. Juan Manuel is 23 years old and is probably the equivalent of an American who has just gotten out of school and is going to teach English somewhere before they figure out what they really want to do (only he is teaching Spanish). This is his first time teaching a group class, and I think we are exhausting him. After class yesterday, I was walking out with him and another student, and he asked the student if he had a smoke. He went on to explain that he had given up cigarettes for the day but after class, he had to have one. Oops! I think he must be muy frustrated.

But class is good. And I am the nerd that sits right next to the teacher and asks too many questions and pats myself on the back when I get something right. I am so determined to learn this! It really is unfortunate that we are forced to learn languages during college when we could not care less about actually learning them. When we choose to learn something because we really want to learn it, it´s much more effective. I went home after class last night and studied my vocabulary and did my homework and wrote down useful verbs and phrases. Dork!

But I will say that after one day of class and studying on my own, I am making some progress. Over steak last night, I told Rosa that the cemetary had lots of cats and the school was very beautiful. She is still speaking to me in English a lot because she gets that I don´t get it, but we are taking baby steps here. I will get it.

Okay, I am sitting in the school now, on a short break during class, trying furiously to finish this post! I was going to try to write about what I did this morning, but I will wait til tomorrow to get into that. Don´t want you to have too much to read, after all!

Steak and Rosa

Hola! I have arrived. It´s unbelievable. I can´t even think straight right now.

My plane arrived around 12:30 PM(by the way, these keyboards are funny...i just tried to type in that colon, and it gave me ñ) today. The flight was very smooth and uneventful. It left about 45 minutes late - 11 PM EST last night - and thanks to my going away party on Friday night and last minute running around yesterday afternoon, I was exhausted and feel easily to sleep. I didn´t even have a glass of wine! The plane ride was 10 hours and 50 minutes, but it didn´t feel long at all. Very painless.

So I had this morning´s cup of coffee around 11 AM, looking out the plane window at sprawling Argentina below. I can´t explain how exciting it was. It´s so weird when you´ve imagined something over and over and over again, and then it actually happens. And it´s always nothing you thought it would be - it´s somehow better.

Anyway, my arrival was extremely easy, thanks to my school arranging a cab for me. I just had to go through customs (which was a breeze), grab my bag, and go up to the cab stand and give them my little waiver thingy. Then a strapping young Argentinian man came and carried my bag out to my taxi. I´m a queen:) Then the guy asked me for a tip, which was less charming, and I gave him a $5 US, which occured to me once I gave it to him that it was kind of an enormous tip, but oh well. Silly American that I am.

Then we were off! Lots of itty bitty cars here. I love it. It was about a 20 minute drive from the airport into Buenos Aires. I am certain I won´t be able to explain what things look like here, but I will try. It´s very flat, at least the area right around BA is. And green! But green in the way that you´d think trees in the desert would be - they look very out of place in the landscape or something.

All along the highway, people were picnicking! I cannot imagine anyone in America ever just pulling themselves off the road onto a grassy spot and setting up their grill next to the cars whizzing by. It was great. Tons of cars had just pulled over under the shade of a tree, and people had set up chairs and were just lounging and eating and drinking.

And Buenos Aires is huge and sprawling. But not huge like New York is huge. It doesn´t have a presence when you drive up on it - not like you come over the hill and, tada! There it is! The buildings are not nearly as tall, and they´re not metallic and shiny like in New York. They´re white and sandy and natural colors, and they honestly look pretty shabby from the highway. But then you exit the highway, and you´re down in the city streets, and it´s quite charming. Lots of trees make the streets very shady, and the neighborhoods are very quiet and quaint. I´m sure I haven´t even seen any of Buenos Aires yet, so more on that later.

We pulled up to Rosa´s apartment, and the cab driver went up and buzzed her (I have been very spoiled today - have not had to have any embarrassing ¨no habla espanol¨ experiences), and then she came down and embraced me! Ah, Rosa! She is 70 years old, has dyed auburn hair, is very short and squatty and is altogether exactly what I was hoping for in my Argentinian mama. She speaks a little English (much more than I speak Spanish), but she was very firm with me this afternoon, telling me I MUST learn. She then proceded to whip out the Buenos Aires map and explain all the neighborhoods for me, in Spanish. I did a lot of smiling and nodding (I´ve got ¨si¨down), but she´s excellent with gesturing and intonation, so even though I´m basically hearing babble, I can sort of get the gist of it.

She has another girl living with her right now, Nicoleta, who looks to be about 35 and who is from Cleveland, Ohio! She is only here for one more week. She´s a tango dancer and just came down here for a month to dance! How fun! Anyway, great to have an English speaker in the house, just in case! Then after she leaves, we´ll have another someone in the room.

The apartment is small, but precious, and Rosa has a fluffy white cat that eyes the living room very territorially from it´s perch on the bookshelf. I haven´t quite won the little kitty over yet, but I´m a gonna... I have a twin bed, a desk, a chair, and a closet. It´s perfect.

Then Henrique, who just this morning vacated my room, showed up, and he, Rosa and I went out to lunch. Henrique is a 21 year old student from Brazil, so he speaks Portuguese and Spanish and a little English, too. It was an interesting lunch, needless to say. Lots of Rosa and Henrique talking and me sitting there like a silly little Ellen. Oy, I feel stupid. But I am very confident that after one week of classes, I am at least going to be able to function. I just need the basics and then I´ll be okay. We had steak for lunch. Rosa ordered an appetizer of chorizo sausage - just one little sausage that we split into three portions, and then came steak. Just steak on the plate! It was tasty, but I´m not sure I can eat chorizo and steak for lunch every day. Or maybe I can!

Anyway, home from lunch now and just stopped off here to check in. I´m hopelessly addicted to the internet, so I am sure I will be in here daily. Also just picked up a phone card, so I can go back to Rosa´s and call mumsy and pops to let them know I am here! So now it is back to Rosa´s to nap and decompress and then tonight, Rosa is going to take me over to my school, so I will not get lost tomorrow morning! This is going to be great. I´m thrilled. Adios for now!

Well, well, well...

Departure day has arrived! It is 5:15 PM, I'm sitting in Marie's apartment, totally packed and ready to go! It's insane!

So, as my time ticks away here (I am scheduled to depart for the airport in one hour), I thought I should actually explain, as best I can, what I am getting ready to do.

Starting Monday, I will spend the next four weeks in Buenos Aires. Four hours a day I will be taking Spanish classes at a small language institute. The program has also arranged a homestay for me, which I am VERY excited about. All I know about my host is that she's a 70-year-old woman named Rosa who has a cat! Oh boy! I guess living with a 70-year-old may sound like a drag to some people, but I can't wait. And Rosa is also providing breakfast and dinner for me every day, so I will get a real taste of Argentinian home cookin'.

Most other questions you probably have right about now, I probably do not have an answer to, but here's a run down of the most frequently asked questions:

Do you speak Spanish? No! Not at all. That's why I am taking Spanish classes for four weeks. Seemed like a practical thing to do if I want to travel all over Spanish speaking countries. Plus, I really want to learn Spanish. Brilliant.

How many people are in your program? Don't know. Think it's very small. People can sign up one week at a time, so I assume there's frequent turnover of classmates.

Do you know anybody down there? Oddly enough, I do have two Nashville-connected acquaintances, Sam Nadler and Will Bruno. Whether or not I will actually see them at all is hard to say. We shall see.

What are you going to do after your program is over? Don't know, but I imagine I will go down one of two paths. 1) get a job in Buenos Aires and stay there for a while. 2) TRAVEL. Option 2 is really what I am hoping to do, but I'm not ruling out option 1. I may love Buenos Aires and want to hang out for a bit. I have packed myself in one (ONE!) large backpack, so if I want to travel, I am not going to be weighed down with a bunch of stuff. I've never been so possessionless in my life. It's crazy!

How long are you going to be gone? Indefinitely. I have about six months blocked off in my head, but I am not making any plans, so it could be less time, could be more.

Are you coming back to New York? I'm 99% sure that no is the answer to this one, but again, I'm not making any plans, so who knows. I have shipped all of my stuff home to Nashville, so it's definitely not sitting in storage here, waiting for me to come back. I want to live somewhere a little greener, I think.

Are you ready? Actually, YES. I am ready. Or at least I am as ready as one can be for an unplanned adventure.

Okay, so I am going to go talk to Marie face until time to go! And then she and Michelley are going to ride out to JFK with me. What good friends I have.

Next time I write, it will be from Buenos Aires. Crazy!

Four Days! and I Heart NY

I witnessed a classic New York moment last weekend while waiting for the 4 train to take me from Brooklyn to the East Village. I was standing on the platform, headphones on, mind all over the place, when another train pulled in across the tracks. Through the window of the closed train door, I spotted a haggard, crusty, crazed looking older man. I couldn't have really missed him - he was beating his hands up against the the glass, head cocked awkwardly toward the ceiling, mouth howling away. That sight entertained me for a few seconds; then my eyes scanned the other passengers in the car. Most were plugged into a book or an ipod, determined not to let the crazy crazy distract them. But then of course (of course!) there was the mustached white 50 something guy, who stared at the howling, beating presence with the kind of distaste and confusion reserved for mustached white 50 something guys. It was great.

It was a brief observation, but it made me happy for the duration of my own train ride, and has stuck with me this week. It wasn't exactly a profound moment of any kind, but it was the kind of moment that encompasses what I adore about this city. People walk down the street like people in smaller cities drive around in their cars, but it's all public. And nobody that's lived here long enough to get comfortable has a problem with that. Fights, tears, conversations with mothers about inappropriate subjects - it's all right there for anyone to see and hear. It's so real. The mustached guy's reaction to the crazy. So genuine and untouched.

I am in love with my city this week. Madly in love. It is an imperfect perfection of a place. Its every flaw delights me.

This Saturday, at 10:10 PM, I will be looking at my city from the window of the plane that is taking me to Buenos Aires, another city stuffed with people. They will just be speaking the Spanish, and I'll have to guess (at least for the first week, four weeks?) what they are saying. If I can make it in New York...right?

***

Are you SO excited?! That is the question I am getting from everyone this week, and I have to say, of all the emotions I am feeling right now, excited is not in the top five. I feel like a much calmer, cooler, and collected version of my 18 year old self being dropped off at Indiana. I was mortified of the complete unknown then, as I am now. There are moments when the reality of what I am doing in four days hits me, and my stomach plumets, and I think, WHAT AM I DOING?? But my older self knows that I'll be fine, and that when my plane lands, excited is going to have moved to the top of the emotions list.

My delightful boss tells me that I'm going to come crawling back, and that I'm making the worst decision of my life. But he says it with his characteristic smirk on his face, so I know he knows what I know - it's going to be amazing.

In the meantime, I have four days! Two days more of work (wheeeeee!) and two days of play (wheeeeeee!). I am making lists in my sleep, frantically trying to finish a knitting project for a certain lovely couple, going crazy with last-minute projects at work, reading the history of Argentina (did you know the name Argentina comes from the Latin word for silver?), and having going away parties at all other times. Good thing I don't have to worry about learning Spanish!