I'm finishing off the last of my cafe con leche, pondering the surreality of ichat. After a mega-ichat session with my entire family in the US, I feel a little exhausted and generally overwhelmed with life - but I'm absolutely sure the last 36 hours have contributed greatly to this bizarre beauty I currently feel.
The last day of being 20-years-old was miserable. It was such a bore, an ugly ulcer that kept pushing me down...
I awake uncomfortably on May 29th to the sound of heavy rain. I peek out my bedroom window and see nothing but an overweight white sky crying on Buenos Aires. I am alone in the house and will remain alone for the majority of the day, trapped in by the imposing weather, but escape to eat lunch by myself in Aquarium Cafe - I hate eating alone. Eventually, my host-family returns to relieve my sorrows. Abril and Juan, my good friends, come by for pizza, a warm change from such a cold day. It's getting late and we are way behind schedule. My friend Kyle is already waiting at the Konex Theater - on the far end of the city. Damnit! Abril, Juan and I grab our umbrellas and trudge through the heavy rainstorm, climb on the 152 bus, and head for Abasto. I accept that I am carrying mala onda, or bad vibes, and share my feelings with my friends. Juan lifts my spirits by saying that there are two points on a cycle of life: the bad time will pass, return to good, and will follow this circle - so I should remain positive, think happy thoughts, and move forward. I try my best, but I can tell Abril is tired and agitated. I feel terrible that I am dragging her along by my mala onda. We finally meet Kyle at the Konex, a minute before I turn 21. I take a happy birthday swig of Quilmes beer and receive plenty of loving hugs. Abril and Juan decide to go home, but I am so happy they were there for the start of a new chapter of my life.
I carefully cross the street and buy my "entrada". We are about to enter La Bomba del Tiempo (or The TImebomb) - Argentina's hottest live music show. La Bomba is also celebrating a birthday - their birthday! - 4 years of intensely fierce percussion explosions! Tonight, things get wild. Directly front-and-center is where the real action is - a massive moshing mob of human flesh and energy. Obviously, I am letting loose in the nucleus of this force. I realize that moshing is a physical form of escape - a raw natural human necessity to express our rage - controlled!- in a loving manner. Long story short, I dance my ass off. Speaking earlier of cycles and connections: The first person I spoke to inside La Bomba was a flyer-giver-outer named Luis. It was a quick, short conversation, but I was drawn to his vibes. Vibes is the recurring theme of the night. Anyways, during an intermission, I fled to get some air and crossed paths with Luis again. Another quick word and we split. I attempted conversations with some hot women, but got no bites. Then, LUIS AGAIN! We buy some drinks (La Bomba has huge beers, cups of wine, and Fernet and Cola). We buy all three and go fishing. At one point we catch two good-looking portenas who also have "buena onda". We talk lots, I am knighted a new nickname "Tito", and we head inside to dance. Luis takes Tamara, I try with Florencia but get shot down. O well. I move on. Luis will be traveling to Cordoba and North Argetina at the same time as me. He has many friends in Salta and Jujuy and will hook me up me with his friends. I am sure that there is something positive connecting us... Entonces, I taxi it back home and awake at 12:15, and like the day before, no one is home.
Today, Cacho, Elvira, and I head over to their daughter Maria Jose's house for an asado - AKA a giant gathering of family and friends around delicious beef and wine. We eat, laugh, laugh some more, eat some more, run around with the cute 2 year old twins, and after food we gather to play some "folklorico" - or traditional Argentinean music consisting of the churango, a ukelele-like guitar, tamborines, and hand clapping. It was awesome. One family member was a professional churango player. Maria Jose's husband is a music teacher and can lay-down some sweet Latin guitar. I contributed vocals. At one point, a danced with my host-mom and it was so beautiful. We loves me so much. I love her too. Argentina has a lot of love... We eat cake. Drink more beer. And leave with huge smiles.
Ahora, it's two minutes before May 31st. i am so happy with my birthday day. It was the complete opposite of yesterday's misery. Looking back, La Bomba was a great great way to blast into 21ness. During the day, we celebrated in the sun and lived fruitfully. As I told my host-parents during the ride home, "este cumpleaños fue muy Argentino!"
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Friday, May 28, 2010
Move Your Body!
I read a couple short stories by Jorge Luis Borges for my Argentinean Literature class (translated in English). Borges is probably Argentina's most renowned writer and poet. His works are so beautifully written and carefully edited, overflowing with meaning in such a small space. I love Borges because he bends genres (ie: the detective becomes the hunted) and his themes speak directly to me (such as): Reality is our personal perception, seeing the world, and expressing emotion through words as defective - thought becomes language - language distorts feeling. Life is a labaryth, a game, with one center, one ending that will lift us out of the labaryth. If this sounds at all interesting to you, you should read "Death and the Compass" and "The South". I was by far the most talkative person in class yesterday. Leaving class, one friend whispers to me "Dave, you get so deep." I can't help it!
What else? I'm doing well. I went to The Alamo last night and watched the Lakers win in the final second, got way too drunk, but had the most epic siesta in my life today. I had a series of lucid dreams within dreams. I would awake and find myself in another dream, thinking it was my conscious state, but frightened as I found myself stepping on squishy dogs. One time, my friend Kyle went behind me, looked through my eyes and I was overcome with euphoria like I had been Neo sucked into The Matrix. I tolda girl in one dream about my previous dream and she hugged me and vanished. I then found myself awake again wearing a patient bracelet on the front steps of a Jewish hospital and thought I had previously been in a coma, found an Israeli soldier's passport and looked through his life. The siesta carried a mystical dust and I feel like it carried over into my room when I finally settled in "this level". Failing to explain these dreams to my host mom, I let it go and enjoyed some amazing tacos.
More cafe con leche... This new cafe (Muki is packed) is blasting Eiffel 65 - remember "I'm Blue-da-ba-de-da-ba-dai"? Yeah that group. I remember worshipping this album when I was about 10 years old. Looking back at those years is straight bizarre.
Check it out!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A65Ok9WjOdE
I hope you are doin super well. Keep me posted whats happenin in The States or wherever you may be. Email me or whatnot.
Love ya toots,
Dave
What else? I'm doing well. I went to The Alamo last night and watched the Lakers win in the final second, got way too drunk, but had the most epic siesta in my life today. I had a series of lucid dreams within dreams. I would awake and find myself in another dream, thinking it was my conscious state, but frightened as I found myself stepping on squishy dogs. One time, my friend Kyle went behind me, looked through my eyes and I was overcome with euphoria like I had been Neo sucked into The Matrix. I tolda girl in one dream about my previous dream and she hugged me and vanished. I then found myself awake again wearing a patient bracelet on the front steps of a Jewish hospital and thought I had previously been in a coma, found an Israeli soldier's passport and looked through his life. The siesta carried a mystical dust and I feel like it carried over into my room when I finally settled in "this level". Failing to explain these dreams to my host mom, I let it go and enjoyed some amazing tacos.
More cafe con leche... This new cafe (Muki is packed) is blasting Eiffel 65 - remember "I'm Blue-da-ba-de-da-ba-dai"? Yeah that group. I remember worshipping this album when I was about 10 years old. Looking back at those years is straight bizarre.
Check it out!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A65Ok9WjOdE
I hope you are doin super well. Keep me posted whats happenin in The States or wherever you may be. Email me or whatnot.
Love ya toots,
Dave
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Bicentennial
This is a great site with photos from the weekend. Check it out!!!
http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/2010/05/argentinas_bicentennial.html
http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/2010/05/argentinas_bicentennial.html
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Sunshine Starshine
These 24 hour days stretch long like silly putty. I am sleepy but simply satisfied as I suck up the last of my glorious coffee with vanilla ice cream and whipped cream dessert at Muki, my go-to much-more-than-a-coffee shop coffee shop. I come here because I rarely get internet in casa. But its ok. When I have free time, I usually play guitar.
Last night, my host family invited me to Tutti Fiocchi, their family-owned restaurant/lounge for Danny's birthday. We had a fantastic dinner (home-made pizza and the Argentinean criollo dish 'locro' cooked by Elvira) and plenty of beer. Before cake, I played some improvised songs for the gang. It was a very special night, and again made me appreciate how great a blessing it is that I am paired with this Argentinean family.
Before dinner, I arrived at River Stadium super late, well into the second half of the Argentina vs. Canada friendly. Scoundreling around the giant stadium, I could not find a single ticket; I began talking with a group of Saltenos (N. Argentineans) who had been hustled into buying some fake tickets. They advised me that if we wait around until 10 minutes before end time, security might open the doors for free. Upon hearing this, a giant mob of Argentineans ran and smashed a gate down about 20 meters away from us. Then, a wave of people, me included, sprinted through the gaping hole and leaped up the stone steps. Inside, a loud roar of chants and claps accompanied bright lights to ignite the newcomers into a wild jumping spree. 2 minutes later, Argentina scored their 5th goal! Antonio, my new Salteno friend, lifted me up a spun me around mid-air! I am super uber syked that I got to see the national team (25 minutes) play their last game before the world cup (for free). VAMOS ARGENTINA!
If I haven't mentioned before, it is Argentina's bicentennial today! It is the final day of a long weekend and a long time coming ((200 years...). The spirit around here has been crazy. Crazy spirits they are! People are so excited about Argentina and Argentina soccer its contageous and outrageous. The city was (and still is) on fire with dance, music, parades, etc. I couldnt have come at a better time!
The other night I went with my white-bread friend Kyle to Avenida 9 de Julio (the Obelisco) for a MONSTROUS festival! These colossal streets were closed for a parade which presented all of the Argentinean provinces smack in the heart of the capital between big buildings. While, sipping down Fernet and Cola, we saw llamas, gorgeous women, and giant puppets. Then, we danced and danced to a show highlighting Latin American countries. Columbia threw down some groovy earthy music, but within the celebration and giant mass of people, I lost Kyle. My lonely inebriated state took me away from the spectacle and down the Broadway-like streets of Corrientes. Feeling super down, I coudn't stop questioning and analyzing the massive capitalistic nationalistic 'kilombo' around me. I needed peace so I headed to the Obelisco, Buenos Aries' central monument, and sat quietly on a patch of grass. I took deep breaths in and out, trying to calm myself down... when all of a sudden this girl sat next to me and we began talking. This Chilean cinema student, such a gorgeous soul, fell right into my lap, and suddenly everything became ok. We walked back to the show and raged to Gilberto Gil, who represented Brazil to the max! It was a hot jam! I had Isa with me the whole night and it felt so good to be in the company of a beautiful stranger. We shared LATE night/early morning pizza and fernet and cola in Plaza Seranno and everything was sweet.
Tomorrow, we will go back to school and the normality of life beyond the bicentennial. Argentina has had a little holiday break and now must get back in the zone. While these stories I write might give the impression I am only partying and such, I only choose to pick the really good times that stand out that I'd like to share. Obviously, life isn't great all the time, but it has been rather f'in lovely down here. Still, I am studying harder than the other internationals and getting better notes, which makes going out so much better. Work hard - play hard.
While I head to University of Belgrano every week, the streets feel like my formal school here. I get a lot more by mixing with people on the corner, the train, the subway, and wherever else I may be. Whether its by barging into a Argentinean soccer game or sharing dinner with my host family - I am gaining so much from this very human experience.
Last night, my host family invited me to Tutti Fiocchi, their family-owned restaurant/lounge for Danny's birthday. We had a fantastic dinner (home-made pizza and the Argentinean criollo dish 'locro' cooked by Elvira) and plenty of beer. Before cake, I played some improvised songs for the gang. It was a very special night, and again made me appreciate how great a blessing it is that I am paired with this Argentinean family.
Before dinner, I arrived at River Stadium super late, well into the second half of the Argentina vs. Canada friendly. Scoundreling around the giant stadium, I could not find a single ticket; I began talking with a group of Saltenos (N. Argentineans) who had been hustled into buying some fake tickets. They advised me that if we wait around until 10 minutes before end time, security might open the doors for free. Upon hearing this, a giant mob of Argentineans ran and smashed a gate down about 20 meters away from us. Then, a wave of people, me included, sprinted through the gaping hole and leaped up the stone steps. Inside, a loud roar of chants and claps accompanied bright lights to ignite the newcomers into a wild jumping spree. 2 minutes later, Argentina scored their 5th goal! Antonio, my new Salteno friend, lifted me up a spun me around mid-air! I am super uber syked that I got to see the national team (25 minutes) play their last game before the world cup (for free). VAMOS ARGENTINA!
If I haven't mentioned before, it is Argentina's bicentennial today! It is the final day of a long weekend and a long time coming ((200 years...). The spirit around here has been crazy. Crazy spirits they are! People are so excited about Argentina and Argentina soccer its contageous and outrageous. The city was (and still is) on fire with dance, music, parades, etc. I couldnt have come at a better time!
The other night I went with my white-bread friend Kyle to Avenida 9 de Julio (the Obelisco) for a MONSTROUS festival! These colossal streets were closed for a parade which presented all of the Argentinean provinces smack in the heart of the capital between big buildings. While, sipping down Fernet and Cola, we saw llamas, gorgeous women, and giant puppets. Then, we danced and danced to a show highlighting Latin American countries. Columbia threw down some groovy earthy music, but within the celebration and giant mass of people, I lost Kyle. My lonely inebriated state took me away from the spectacle and down the Broadway-like streets of Corrientes. Feeling super down, I coudn't stop questioning and analyzing the massive capitalistic nationalistic 'kilombo' around me. I needed peace so I headed to the Obelisco, Buenos Aries' central monument, and sat quietly on a patch of grass. I took deep breaths in and out, trying to calm myself down... when all of a sudden this girl sat next to me and we began talking. This Chilean cinema student, such a gorgeous soul, fell right into my lap, and suddenly everything became ok. We walked back to the show and raged to Gilberto Gil, who represented Brazil to the max! It was a hot jam! I had Isa with me the whole night and it felt so good to be in the company of a beautiful stranger. We shared LATE night/early morning pizza and fernet and cola in Plaza Seranno and everything was sweet.
Tomorrow, we will go back to school and the normality of life beyond the bicentennial. Argentina has had a little holiday break and now must get back in the zone. While these stories I write might give the impression I am only partying and such, I only choose to pick the really good times that stand out that I'd like to share. Obviously, life isn't great all the time, but it has been rather f'in lovely down here. Still, I am studying harder than the other internationals and getting better notes, which makes going out so much better. Work hard - play hard.
While I head to University of Belgrano every week, the streets feel like my formal school here. I get a lot more by mixing with people on the corner, the train, the subway, and wherever else I may be. Whether its by barging into a Argentinean soccer game or sharing dinner with my host family - I am gaining so much from this very human experience.
Friday, May 21, 2010
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
How I experienced "the end of the world"
Overlooking Ushuaia from flight 2872, I notice white spots tucked tightly together by the coast. Many islands scatter under tall snowy mountains, and I feel good. Screw this poetic crap! I’m gonna cut this short. Ushuaia sucked. I had enormous expectations of the most southern city on Earth aka “the end of the world”. I imagined a small quiet town - an ice desert with penguins and fishermen frolicking side-by-side. But no. Ushuaia is a dirty city congested with boats and cars, construction and overpriced chocolate. The indigenous museum was equivalent to a few high school history projects wrapped together in someone’s old house. The all you can eat Chinese buffet was a HUGE mistake! Tourist traps were everywhere. But! I cooked a nice fish dinner with Jacque The Frenchman and went on a fabulous boat ride this morning where I was able to unwind, meet some lovely ol’ Paraguayan ladies, and see some hilarious sea lions! Have you ever seen sea lions (or lobos) in their natural environment? They sit on a rock and scream all day - my new favorite animal!
I am back in Buenos Aires where I enjoyed a hot shower and delicious comforting home-cooked dinner with Elvira and Cacho. Elvira taught me some French: a na pa de qua (your welcome) and se’ fini (enough)...does that sound right?
Ok. Off to bed. I’ll post photos soon.
Love
Dave (aka D-A-Go! or Julio)
I am back in Buenos Aires where I enjoyed a hot shower and delicious comforting home-cooked dinner with Elvira and Cacho. Elvira taught me some French: a na pa de qua (your welcome) and se’ fini (enough)...does that sound right?
Ok. Off to bed. I’ll post photos soon.
Love
Dave (aka D-A-Go! or Julio)
Monday, May 17, 2010
Now flip the page.
Bigfoot has small hands.
Nessy´s not in Scotland.
Flying saucers - US plans
To distract from wars
In far off lands.
The moon man´s
A TV star
Your chocolate cigar
Is delicious.
These fictitious realities
Are poetry
For you and me.
We´re super
For superstitions
Flipping coins
In fountains wishing
For universal mending change
To make the day
A monument...
Now flip the page.
Nessy´s not in Scotland.
Flying saucers - US plans
To distract from wars
In far off lands.
The moon man´s
A TV star
Your chocolate cigar
Is delicious.
These fictitious realities
Are poetry
For you and me.
We´re super
For superstitions
Flipping coins
In fountains wishing
For universal mending change
To make the day
A monument...
Now flip the page.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
"Somos aventureros!"
Patagonian phonies dont trekk to the top. They stay dropped at the bottom, with their cameras locked. But hell no this kid goes all! Dressed to be impressed, trudging up Mount Fitz Roy! Yeah boy! Carnivores crunch on bones, dont fuck aroud with soy. Me and Ms. French bring tha heat! Melting snow at our feet. We make our move to the top: rock turns to ice, ice turns to snow, snow turns to glaciar. Its D-A-Go! An 8 hour hike beyond everyones advice. We trekked straight through the night. We´re adventurers, right! Its a sight beyond sights. Visions ignite. Everything is morphing. Im better than alright! When we plummet down the mountain, Go! loses his feet. Twists up an ankle and bitter takes over sweet. Its raining its howling its time to press on. Eat another banana Mount Fitz Roy we´re gone!
Crawl back to the hostel and Im wrung out and drained. After a long ass shower Im chillen out the pain. A lane ahead says go, sleep tight long with ease. Tomorrow we´ll see which way blows the breeze.
D-A-GOOOOO!
Crawl back to the hostel and Im wrung out and drained. After a long ass shower Im chillen out the pain. A lane ahead says go, sleep tight long with ease. Tomorrow we´ll see which way blows the breeze.
D-A-GOOOOO!
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Wind. Water. Ice.
There are no words to describe the glaciar in El Calafate - only sounds: OooHH!! WHOAAAH!!! AhhhhH! UggGHH!!!
Today was mind-blowing!
I hiked on the glaciar, went under the glaciar,licked the glaciar, and drank scotch on the glaciar! Our group was a trail-mix of travelers of many ages, countries, cultures, etc. And while stereotypes are mean, they are true and really funny, too. The stars of the pack were three Chinese men who took pictures all the time. It was not anywhere near annoying because they were absolutely hilarious - posing with everyone, making ridiculous faces, and constantly falling out of the group. Nice!
People, including myself, constantly took pictures of the fascinating glaciar and posed with the massive block of white and blue ice, but I believe that doing this strips away layers of its beauty. There is something very different between seeing pictures and actually being there - swept up by the wind, breathing in chill, and hearing the delayed sounds of ice cracking and plummeting into the freezing water below. While no photo can truly bring back the past, it serves as a lovely reminder. Also, I hate digital. Any color in digital format is a code represented by numbers. I have a feeling mankind will lose all digital information one day, demonstrating how we must take in the present moment as it is, and not save it for tomorrow. Still, how can you not shoot away at such a beautiful creature (the glaciar, that is)! Upon hearing growls emerging from the monstrous being, I asked a man next to me what that sound is. He replied, "its everything - wind, water, and ice all in one." I really liked his response.
Tomorrow I will go up to El Chalten, a small town three hours away. I hear there are wonderful hikes there by Mount Fitz Roy. Id like to go to Torres del Paine, Chile but its too cold to go trekking for days and days, camping in the freeze. So, El Chalten tomorrow. Gotta get back to BsAs by Wednesday. For now, I will enjoy a hot shower, leftover pasta, a cold Iguana, and Harry Potter 7.
I love you so much.
D-A-Go!
PS: I met two awesome British girls last night in the hostel and I found out two things about my life: I know what I will pursue when I return to The States...AUDIO BOOK VOICE-OVERS! I recited The Lord of the Rings with such passion that my future opened right in front of me. Then, I will have separate fun rooms in my mansion - one with trampolines and velcro walls, one with colorful play balls to swim through, zip lines going this way and that, a car with ben and jerries ice cream emerging from the center console, and a firepole from my bedroom to my car with ben and jerry´s in the center console.
Also, I am Lee Mead - the British theatre actor/singer... I just heard of him but we look very alike enough for me to do more independent reseach on this Brit.
Anyways, GO HARRY and GO LAKERS!
Today was mind-blowing!
I hiked on the glaciar, went under the glaciar,licked the glaciar, and drank scotch on the glaciar! Our group was a trail-mix of travelers of many ages, countries, cultures, etc. And while stereotypes are mean, they are true and really funny, too. The stars of the pack were three Chinese men who took pictures all the time. It was not anywhere near annoying because they were absolutely hilarious - posing with everyone, making ridiculous faces, and constantly falling out of the group. Nice!
People, including myself, constantly took pictures of the fascinating glaciar and posed with the massive block of white and blue ice, but I believe that doing this strips away layers of its beauty. There is something very different between seeing pictures and actually being there - swept up by the wind, breathing in chill, and hearing the delayed sounds of ice cracking and plummeting into the freezing water below. While no photo can truly bring back the past, it serves as a lovely reminder. Also, I hate digital. Any color in digital format is a code represented by numbers. I have a feeling mankind will lose all digital information one day, demonstrating how we must take in the present moment as it is, and not save it for tomorrow. Still, how can you not shoot away at such a beautiful creature (the glaciar, that is)! Upon hearing growls emerging from the monstrous being, I asked a man next to me what that sound is. He replied, "its everything - wind, water, and ice all in one." I really liked his response.
Tomorrow I will go up to El Chalten, a small town three hours away. I hear there are wonderful hikes there by Mount Fitz Roy. Id like to go to Torres del Paine, Chile but its too cold to go trekking for days and days, camping in the freeze. So, El Chalten tomorrow. Gotta get back to BsAs by Wednesday. For now, I will enjoy a hot shower, leftover pasta, a cold Iguana, and Harry Potter 7.
I love you so much.
D-A-Go!
PS: I met two awesome British girls last night in the hostel and I found out two things about my life: I know what I will pursue when I return to The States...AUDIO BOOK VOICE-OVERS! I recited The Lord of the Rings with such passion that my future opened right in front of me. Then, I will have separate fun rooms in my mansion - one with trampolines and velcro walls, one with colorful play balls to swim through, zip lines going this way and that, a car with ben and jerries ice cream emerging from the center console, and a firepole from my bedroom to my car with ben and jerry´s in the center console.
Also, I am Lee Mead - the British theatre actor/singer... I just heard of him but we look very alike enough for me to do more independent reseach on this Brit.
Anyways, GO HARRY and GO LAKERS!
Friday, May 14, 2010
NEW POST ADDED
More Uruguay photos next week...
I am now in Patagonia and it is stunningly beautiful. Harry Potter 7 is getting hot and bloody. All is great. I make really good pasta. Sleep is necessary. Hiking on a glaciar tomorrow. Love!
Dave
I am now in Patagonia and it is stunningly beautiful. Harry Potter 7 is getting hot and bloody. All is great. I make really good pasta. Sleep is necessary. Hiking on a glaciar tomorrow. Love!
Dave
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Parrots and Pigeons
Its Saturday night in Punta del Este, the party capital of Uruguay, and the streets are deserted. The band of traveling students – the Brit, the Dutch, the Irish, the German, and the American – look around for signs of life, but the city is undoubtedly dead. Not only this, but the Uruguayan law states that no one is allowed to sell alcohal for another 24 hours until the election ends… More like Punta del Suck.
Flashback 30 hours before: the American, David Roston, is sprinting down the long terminal - FINAL BOARDING FOR COLONIA. He leaps into the Buquebus before takeoff, sticks his sweaty back on the open leather seat beside the lovely-looking brunette, and breathes deep. The boat ride across the world’s widest river feels like a momentito as the boat docks into Uruguay - the sun hangs high in the bright blue sky, lighting the small town with sparkles. Big banners line the cobblestone streets as classic autos creep along the walking backpacker. It’s election season in Uruguay and the people are enthused and amused - the American is confused but pursues. He eventually finds El Espanola, a quaint hostel tucked behind some side streets, plops his bag on the top bunk, and meets Bob, a traveling sailor with long white hair and beard, resembling Gandalf The White from The Lord of the Rings. But, their conversation is cut short, David realizes the sun is descending, grabs a free bike from the back and rides without map towards the lighthouse in the “antigua district.” As the sun paints the sky a deep orange, the American straddles the long white wall looking out to sea; he notices two youngins who need assistance with a photo and offers help. After a quick conversation, celestial sunset with TWO suns (see photo) and deep revelations of life peace and nature, The American is invited to dinner by the other students. Here, David meets the full group of Europeans: three pretty girls, Amy, Lisa, and Eva; and Mark, the gay Amersterdamian funnyguy.
Flash-forward three hours and David is onstage playing guitar with Juan The Keyboardist in a local bar, jamming out some Spanish blues. After some sweet sangria, three delicious crepes, and a lovely night, the group splits to their separate hostels and makes plans to meet up the following day. As he predicted, the American fell right into the lap of destiny, his guardian angel.
Flash-forward 12 hours and David is free-flying down the Colonia coast on a 3 dollar rented vespa alongside his school program assistant Pamela and boyfriend. The two parties coincidentally crossed paths ten minutes prior in the Colonia Pirate Museum. After a scrumptious lunch of chivitos, a bomb Uruguayan meat sandwich, Dave heads back to El Espanola and cuts out - meets his fellow travelers and books it in a rented car to Montevideo. Palm trees align the road out of Colonia. The endless fields on either side show endless possibilities.
Upon a sunset arrival, Montevideo seems sketchy. The capital city is quiet and lurking with bad vibes. With a big stretch and yawn and newly bought Harry Potter 7 in hand, David and the gang say sianara to Montevideo.
Punta del Este offers nothing but a great fish dinner with delicious white wine. The Europeans know significantly more about wine than the American who feels naive and stupid in their uber snooty wine connoisseur presence. Whatever. Cheers!
The next morning, the gang splits up. David heads to the beach to see The Hand (a big sculpture arising from the sand) then books it further east as the others return the opposite way to Buenos Aires. A stop in San Carlos opens time for the American to roam the lively town and meet some die-hard political supporters of Dario, their lord and savior. Next to the bus terminal, David enjoy a huge milanesa sandwich with chicken jam cheese fried egg jalipenos and tons of sauces. Buen provecho!
[SIDENOTE TO EVERYONE: The Uruguayans know how to drink mate, much more than the Argentineans, who seem like pansy fairies in comparison. The Uruguayans drink it all day long and carry a thermos and mate with them everywhere. Plus, The Uruguayan yerba is ten times stronger. As my friend Troy put it, THIS SHIT IS STRAIGHT CRACK!]
When David arrives in La Paloma, he heads over to the empty tourist information booth. Little does David know that there is almost nothing touristy about this tiny town. He finds ONE piece of paper behind the desk, a flyer for BEACH HOSTEL, embroidered with colorful photos of hot girls and sunsets. At the top reads, THEY WILL PAY YOUR CAB FEE FROM THE BUS STATION. Good enough. Take me there.
At BEACH HOSTEL, David meets the owner Ricardo, a tall dark imposing man with a white soul patch. As they split some of David’s mate, Ricardo keeps shouting, “THIS IS SHIT! SHIT!” displaying his extensive English vocabulary. The only other people staying at BEACH HOSTEL were a British family of mom dad and their 4 year old daughter Amelia, who have been traveling all her life. Amelia is the most angelic little girl ever. She never cries, is full of life, and very playful. David watches with astonishment as the parents tell their daughter they just rented a house for 3 months in La Paloma and the girl accepts without fuss – super normal, super awesome. What an amazing way to see the world in the most fertile years of consciousness and understanding of the world. This family is so cool.
David thinks.
David rides around La Paloma on a free bike and picks up food supplies, cooks an incredible pasta dish, watches a mind-blowing Argentinian supermodel contest with Ricardo in his backhouse, and mentally prepares for the next morning.
Surfing. Dave walks down the coast in a raggedy wetsuit, clutching a red foamboard by his side. There are no other souls in sights as David heads into the freezing water. Note: DON’T WEAR A WETSUIT WITH HOLES. IT DOESN’T WORK! Still, Dave has peaceful clarity with mother nature. The previous sunset alone on the beach brought solidarity and emptiness, but in contact with the water, a whole new feeling arises inside him – one of passion and fulfillment. David rides one and a half waves, practices Tai Chi in the water, and heads back to BEACH HOSTEL shower.
When leaving La Paloma (which means The Pigeon) David witnesses a mid-air battle between armies of green-and-red parrots and black-and-white pigeons - Chromophilia versus Chromophobia. Sweet!
The more I realize that everything happens for a reason, the more I can accept what is going on in the present moment. Life might not make sense while it’s occurring, but it all fits into place and works out in the end. Traveling makes this especially evident, but in whichever case, the most important thing to do is go. Staying in one place pulls you down. SO GO!
Flashback 30 hours before: the American, David Roston, is sprinting down the long terminal - FINAL BOARDING FOR COLONIA. He leaps into the Buquebus before takeoff, sticks his sweaty back on the open leather seat beside the lovely-looking brunette, and breathes deep. The boat ride across the world’s widest river feels like a momentito as the boat docks into Uruguay - the sun hangs high in the bright blue sky, lighting the small town with sparkles. Big banners line the cobblestone streets as classic autos creep along the walking backpacker. It’s election season in Uruguay and the people are enthused and amused - the American is confused but pursues. He eventually finds El Espanola, a quaint hostel tucked behind some side streets, plops his bag on the top bunk, and meets Bob, a traveling sailor with long white hair and beard, resembling Gandalf The White from The Lord of the Rings. But, their conversation is cut short, David realizes the sun is descending, grabs a free bike from the back and rides without map towards the lighthouse in the “antigua district.” As the sun paints the sky a deep orange, the American straddles the long white wall looking out to sea; he notices two youngins who need assistance with a photo and offers help. After a quick conversation, celestial sunset with TWO suns (see photo) and deep revelations of life peace and nature, The American is invited to dinner by the other students. Here, David meets the full group of Europeans: three pretty girls, Amy, Lisa, and Eva; and Mark, the gay Amersterdamian funnyguy.
Flash-forward three hours and David is onstage playing guitar with Juan The Keyboardist in a local bar, jamming out some Spanish blues. After some sweet sangria, three delicious crepes, and a lovely night, the group splits to their separate hostels and makes plans to meet up the following day. As he predicted, the American fell right into the lap of destiny, his guardian angel.
Flash-forward 12 hours and David is free-flying down the Colonia coast on a 3 dollar rented vespa alongside his school program assistant Pamela and boyfriend. The two parties coincidentally crossed paths ten minutes prior in the Colonia Pirate Museum. After a scrumptious lunch of chivitos, a bomb Uruguayan meat sandwich, Dave heads back to El Espanola and cuts out - meets his fellow travelers and books it in a rented car to Montevideo. Palm trees align the road out of Colonia. The endless fields on either side show endless possibilities.
Upon a sunset arrival, Montevideo seems sketchy. The capital city is quiet and lurking with bad vibes. With a big stretch and yawn and newly bought Harry Potter 7 in hand, David and the gang say sianara to Montevideo.
Punta del Este offers nothing but a great fish dinner with delicious white wine. The Europeans know significantly more about wine than the American who feels naive and stupid in their uber snooty wine connoisseur presence. Whatever. Cheers!
The next morning, the gang splits up. David heads to the beach to see The Hand (a big sculpture arising from the sand) then books it further east as the others return the opposite way to Buenos Aires. A stop in San Carlos opens time for the American to roam the lively town and meet some die-hard political supporters of Dario, their lord and savior. Next to the bus terminal, David enjoy a huge milanesa sandwich with chicken jam cheese fried egg jalipenos and tons of sauces. Buen provecho!
[SIDENOTE TO EVERYONE: The Uruguayans know how to drink mate, much more than the Argentineans, who seem like pansy fairies in comparison. The Uruguayans drink it all day long and carry a thermos and mate with them everywhere. Plus, The Uruguayan yerba is ten times stronger. As my friend Troy put it, THIS SHIT IS STRAIGHT CRACK!]
When David arrives in La Paloma, he heads over to the empty tourist information booth. Little does David know that there is almost nothing touristy about this tiny town. He finds ONE piece of paper behind the desk, a flyer for BEACH HOSTEL, embroidered with colorful photos of hot girls and sunsets. At the top reads, THEY WILL PAY YOUR CAB FEE FROM THE BUS STATION. Good enough. Take me there.
At BEACH HOSTEL, David meets the owner Ricardo, a tall dark imposing man with a white soul patch. As they split some of David’s mate, Ricardo keeps shouting, “THIS IS SHIT! SHIT!” displaying his extensive English vocabulary. The only other people staying at BEACH HOSTEL were a British family of mom dad and their 4 year old daughter Amelia, who have been traveling all her life. Amelia is the most angelic little girl ever. She never cries, is full of life, and very playful. David watches with astonishment as the parents tell their daughter they just rented a house for 3 months in La Paloma and the girl accepts without fuss – super normal, super awesome. What an amazing way to see the world in the most fertile years of consciousness and understanding of the world. This family is so cool.
David thinks.
David rides around La Paloma on a free bike and picks up food supplies, cooks an incredible pasta dish, watches a mind-blowing Argentinian supermodel contest with Ricardo in his backhouse, and mentally prepares for the next morning.
Surfing. Dave walks down the coast in a raggedy wetsuit, clutching a red foamboard by his side. There are no other souls in sights as David heads into the freezing water. Note: DON’T WEAR A WETSUIT WITH HOLES. IT DOESN’T WORK! Still, Dave has peaceful clarity with mother nature. The previous sunset alone on the beach brought solidarity and emptiness, but in contact with the water, a whole new feeling arises inside him – one of passion and fulfillment. David rides one and a half waves, practices Tai Chi in the water, and heads back to BEACH HOSTEL shower.
When leaving La Paloma (which means The Pigeon) David witnesses a mid-air battle between armies of green-and-red parrots and black-and-white pigeons - Chromophilia versus Chromophobia. Sweet!
The more I realize that everything happens for a reason, the more I can accept what is going on in the present moment. Life might not make sense while it’s occurring, but it all fits into place and works out in the end. Traveling makes this especially evident, but in whichever case, the most important thing to do is go. Staying in one place pulls you down. SO GO!
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Red Clouds
I could go out and do anything by myself. For me, it has been way more fun doing so. Sunday, after playing tennis, futbol, and eating another asado with the family and friends, I took the 15 bus to Boeda - a part of town one would never wanna venture if it wasnt Sunday. I got off the colectivo with other youngins wearing red and blue, found a lone girl and started talkin and walkin. "This is my first San Lorenzo game - in fact - my first Argentinian soccer game!" Stefani turned out to be destiny. We walked to the stadium through Baja Flores, an even worse part of town, and arrived at the cancha. I bought a ticket for Popular, the really rowdy die hard fan section with banners, flags, colored umbrellas, bass drums, and clouds of marijuana smoke. Let me just say that Argentinian soccer is the bomb! These guys chant songs (about 20 different ones) throughout the whole game, jump around and go nuts. The real excitement is in the stands. Constant energy. The best part about the whole game was after we blew a 1-0 lead and lost the game, there was huge celebration after the match! Everyone was yelling, jumping around, and having fun. I looked up in complete euphoria and absorbed the sky: a deep blue with red clouds - nature screaming SAN LORENZO! On the bus back, I met even more great people, shared sweet wine, and made plans to go back for another game.
Last night, I went solo to The Alamo, an American bar in the Recoleta to watch my Lakers whoop the Jazz. Upon getting out of my taxi, I noticed three girls wandering around, speaking English. "Goin to The Alamo?" We enter the joint to find gigantic pitchers and televisions flowing throughout the classy yellow and brown antique walls. This place could have been a smooth tango bar in the 30s, but has been conquered by ´merkins! Flip cup, Rage Against the Machine and Red Hot Chili Peppers on repeat. I practiced my English and and went college style on everyone. All in all - great night. One of the girls (who happens to go to my school here in BsAs) is a choreographer and amazing dancer. Lets just say we tore up the entire place with our Miguel Jackson duets.
Mate in the morning after 4 AM McDonalds french fries and fiery fiber flowing through my body. Dont worry ma and pa, I am going to all my classes and doing exceptionally well. It´s impossible to avoid the good air out there in the night.
Last night, I went solo to The Alamo, an American bar in the Recoleta to watch my Lakers whoop the Jazz. Upon getting out of my taxi, I noticed three girls wandering around, speaking English. "Goin to The Alamo?" We enter the joint to find gigantic pitchers and televisions flowing throughout the classy yellow and brown antique walls. This place could have been a smooth tango bar in the 30s, but has been conquered by ´merkins! Flip cup, Rage Against the Machine and Red Hot Chili Peppers on repeat. I practiced my English and and went college style on everyone. All in all - great night. One of the girls (who happens to go to my school here in BsAs) is a choreographer and amazing dancer. Lets just say we tore up the entire place with our Miguel Jackson duets.
Mate in the morning after 4 AM McDonalds french fries and fiery fiber flowing through my body. Dont worry ma and pa, I am going to all my classes and doing exceptionally well. It´s impossible to avoid the good air out there in the night.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Naturaleza Muerta
Torro miedo
Hombre en pedo
Quiero hablar algo
Pero no puedo
Es la sangre del pintor
Los huesos de escultor
Las memorias del fotógrafo
Y el accento del escritor
Buscame en el bosque
En la mente del mar
El el ritmo del bombo
De la bomba
A Irán
Hombre en pedo
Quiero hablar algo
Pero no puedo
Es la sangre del pintor
Los huesos de escultor
Las memorias del fotógrafo
Y el accento del escritor
Buscame en el bosque
En la mente del mar
El el ritmo del bombo
De la bomba
A Irán
Saturday, May 1, 2010
This is Buenos Aires
I awake to disco dance music blasting just outside my window. What the fuck, I grogilly ponder as I twist and turn in bed, sorting through this foreign noise, my loose dreams, and the mystery of last night. The construction workers next door are celebrating May Day and partying hard. What time is it anyways? I spill out of bed and head downstairs. I hear new music from below and witness a crowd of people in my house. HEY! I know all you guys! Cacho (my host dad) and his buddies had returned from a morning of tennis and are preparing an asado. Perfect timing. I prepare my mate and attempt to catch up with their rapid conversations- I am like the out of shape loser at the back of the track team, trying to keep up while receiving all the laughs.
The day before, I enjoyed a free all-you-can-eat buffet lunch provided by my program, saying goodbye to the early group of Americans. The food was decent, but those celestial crepes stood on higher ground. My Wisconsin whitebred friend Joe tells me of a fútbol tournament in 2 hours so I book it back to Vicente Lopez and prepare a bag. 45 minutes both ways - que horible. We meet at Parque Las Heras for the "backpackers soccer tournament" and get placed on a terrible team. Nonetheless, Joe and I represent U S and A and play well, stubbing toenails and tearing skin on synthetic turf until the last whistle blows. Out of shape and feeling great! Runner´s high for these two guys. We book it back to his place to shower and change, already late for "International Night" at University of Belgrano, our lovely school. We arrive clutching two liters of Iguana, the cheapest Argentinian beer. A cloud of people mass on the front steps, drinking litres, vodka, tequila and sucking down cigarettes. I lean back with a group of porteños and watch from the sidelines as gorgeous ladies climb and decend the stairs. What a view. Inside is a madhouse. Intense sweating, dancing, moshing insanity. I stay for the Columbian mega dance ensemble and squeeze back outside for a live band! Dance like a maniac and attack with fist pumps and hip thrusts. ONLY IN BUENOS AIRES can you have a huge party with drinks and a live band INSIDE THE UNIVERSITY BUILDING.
I ditch the group of Americans and befriend Caitlin, a super sweet New Yorker chick. Let the night of adventure begin: We go back to her apartment and I befriend her Brazilian roommates. They feed me leftover rice, corn, a potatoe dish and much needed cold water. When Caitlin is ready to roll, we head over to Tutti i Fiocchi, my host family´s bar in Palermo. I find Gustavo, the only family member I had yet to meet and he seats and compliments us with Quilmes Red Lager, my new favorite Argentinian beer. After some lovely conversation and laughs, I order a slice of lemon pie. But this ain´t no ordinary lemon pie! It´s made especially by my host mom, Elvira. I had seen her bake this sensational treat numerous occasions and I actually moved the pie off the stove earlier that day...and here we were (the pie and I) in Palermo sharing a slice with a perfect stranger. And what amazing pie it was, exploding with love.
Fast forward....me and Caitlin randomly go to a bar with a cool mural in front, drink some mojitos and leave after a huge dick of an argentinian kills our vibes with his drunken idiocy. All's well that ends well, right? Too bad it didn't. Caitlin has to meet up with a gay friend at a hardcore gay bar and I am not in the mood to get hit and rubbed on. We say goodbye and part ways... What next, David? Anda con el viento. I meet up with one of Leah's friends at a boliche (club) and it's completely awful. She is awful too. Super fake and annoying. I leave without saying goodbye and book it to Troy's house, but he's not there. So I go to Plaza Serana to meet him at Azucar, but I arrive at the wrong plaza, walk in a huge circle, eat a superpancho ( big juicy hotdog) and a chocolate donut filled with dulce de leche (for 40 cents) and wander towards Plaza Armenia, urinate on a uber trendy boutique and find Troy dancing by himself on the street corner, obviously happy about something. We glide back to his house (where I just was) and spit (yell) rhymes till we lose our voices. Its 6 in the morning and something tells me to keep the adventure alive. I hail a cab back to Vicente Lopez and slip into bed by 7...
5 hours later and I'm eating a pork head with a group of 7 old men. I even eat the eyeball. It was superb! Finally, some strange food. Everything in Buenos AIres is much more 'civilized' than the cow feet, wild jungle pig, and brain I ate in Guatemala. Gimme that STRANGE! After a great lunch, confusing conversation and a delisioso bread pudding (made by Elivra), I whip out the guitar and provide some live entertainment for the boys. All smooth. All groove.
Now here I am making plans for this eve. Weekend twists are bliss to my shishkabobed soul. Im rolling in pirate gold. Flying with tigers and lying with five or six chicks on a brick oven pizza. Sweet or sour pass the hour to the left. I'm spicing up my rhymes with thyme and time. Divine destiny, where will you lead me? We´ll see...Soon enough.
David Julius
The day before, I enjoyed a free all-you-can-eat buffet lunch provided by my program, saying goodbye to the early group of Americans. The food was decent, but those celestial crepes stood on higher ground. My Wisconsin whitebred friend Joe tells me of a fútbol tournament in 2 hours so I book it back to Vicente Lopez and prepare a bag. 45 minutes both ways - que horible. We meet at Parque Las Heras for the "backpackers soccer tournament" and get placed on a terrible team. Nonetheless, Joe and I represent U S and A and play well, stubbing toenails and tearing skin on synthetic turf until the last whistle blows. Out of shape and feeling great! Runner´s high for these two guys. We book it back to his place to shower and change, already late for "International Night" at University of Belgrano, our lovely school. We arrive clutching two liters of Iguana, the cheapest Argentinian beer. A cloud of people mass on the front steps, drinking litres, vodka, tequila and sucking down cigarettes. I lean back with a group of porteños and watch from the sidelines as gorgeous ladies climb and decend the stairs. What a view. Inside is a madhouse. Intense sweating, dancing, moshing insanity. I stay for the Columbian mega dance ensemble and squeeze back outside for a live band! Dance like a maniac and attack with fist pumps and hip thrusts. ONLY IN BUENOS AIRES can you have a huge party with drinks and a live band INSIDE THE UNIVERSITY BUILDING.
I ditch the group of Americans and befriend Caitlin, a super sweet New Yorker chick. Let the night of adventure begin: We go back to her apartment and I befriend her Brazilian roommates. They feed me leftover rice, corn, a potatoe dish and much needed cold water. When Caitlin is ready to roll, we head over to Tutti i Fiocchi, my host family´s bar in Palermo. I find Gustavo, the only family member I had yet to meet and he seats and compliments us with Quilmes Red Lager, my new favorite Argentinian beer. After some lovely conversation and laughs, I order a slice of lemon pie. But this ain´t no ordinary lemon pie! It´s made especially by my host mom, Elvira. I had seen her bake this sensational treat numerous occasions and I actually moved the pie off the stove earlier that day...and here we were (the pie and I) in Palermo sharing a slice with a perfect stranger. And what amazing pie it was, exploding with love.
Fast forward....me and Caitlin randomly go to a bar with a cool mural in front, drink some mojitos and leave after a huge dick of an argentinian kills our vibes with his drunken idiocy. All's well that ends well, right? Too bad it didn't. Caitlin has to meet up with a gay friend at a hardcore gay bar and I am not in the mood to get hit and rubbed on. We say goodbye and part ways... What next, David? Anda con el viento. I meet up with one of Leah's friends at a boliche (club) and it's completely awful. She is awful too. Super fake and annoying. I leave without saying goodbye and book it to Troy's house, but he's not there. So I go to Plaza Serana to meet him at Azucar, but I arrive at the wrong plaza, walk in a huge circle, eat a superpancho ( big juicy hotdog) and a chocolate donut filled with dulce de leche (for 40 cents) and wander towards Plaza Armenia, urinate on a uber trendy boutique and find Troy dancing by himself on the street corner, obviously happy about something. We glide back to his house (where I just was) and spit (yell) rhymes till we lose our voices. Its 6 in the morning and something tells me to keep the adventure alive. I hail a cab back to Vicente Lopez and slip into bed by 7...
5 hours later and I'm eating a pork head with a group of 7 old men. I even eat the eyeball. It was superb! Finally, some strange food. Everything in Buenos AIres is much more 'civilized' than the cow feet, wild jungle pig, and brain I ate in Guatemala. Gimme that STRANGE! After a great lunch, confusing conversation and a delisioso bread pudding (made by Elivra), I whip out the guitar and provide some live entertainment for the boys. All smooth. All groove.
Now here I am making plans for this eve. Weekend twists are bliss to my shishkabobed soul. Im rolling in pirate gold. Flying with tigers and lying with five or six chicks on a brick oven pizza. Sweet or sour pass the hour to the left. I'm spicing up my rhymes with thyme and time. Divine destiny, where will you lead me? We´ll see...Soon enough.
David Julius
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
