Argentina Experience

This summer I spent a month in Buenos Aires, Argentina. It was an extremely cool experience, and I don’t just mean the weather, although it was winter over there. I lived with a host family, sharing a room with another UTD student. We had classes four days a week (Monday-Thursday) with the weekend open for travel and exploring the city.
I had the best host family anyone could hope for. Susana, her husband Martín, and her kids Rosario, Dolores and Agustín were all so friendly and helpful with anything. They took really great care of my roommate and me, which made the whole experience just that much better. I lived in a neighborhood near Alto Palermo, in a nice part of town with lots of food, shopping and even a nice park nearby. I found a cute little café near my house to do homework and drink delicious coffee most afternoons.
My classes were Español Coloquial (colloquial Spanish) and a culture class. My Spanish class was a lot of fun, and it taught us the intricacies of the way people speak in Argentina, especially in Buenos Aires. I also got to watch some great Argentine films in class. The culture class taught us about various aspects of the Argentine culture, focusing mainly on the ramifications of the dictatorship from 1976-1983 and on group culture projects. I did my project on Jorge Luis Borges, one of the most influential writers from Latin America of all time. Of course, I also took a tango class at foundation where we took classes, and visited the famous Caminito of La Boca where I saw live tango performances.
While my host family and classes were really fun, the best part was travel. The first weekend we were there we had a long weekend, and a group of us took a bus up to Puerto Iguazú to see Iguazú falls. While the bus ride was an experience in itself (especially when armed border guards came on twice looking for stolen electronics), the falls were spectacular. The wildlife and amazing natural beauty of the falls was the highlight of my trip.
Argentina is a great country that I thoroughly enjoyed spending a month in. I hope to go back as soon as I can, and definitely encourage anyone else to visit. Buenos Aires is an exciting, fast paced city commonly known as “the Paris of South America.” I loved the bustle, the energy and the life that filled the city and its inhabitants. I agree with famous tango singer Carlos Guardel—the city is “Mi Buenos Aires Querido,” my beloved Buenos Aires.

A Day in Paris

Paris-July 3rd, 2009
Wow, I am completely and utterly exhausted, still. Yesterday morning, I moved out of my Nice apartment after bidding goodbye to Madame Charpentier around 11am. I took my bag and backpack, bumping down four stories before walking to the tram, taking that to the Nice Ville train station. I had previously booked my ticket already, and my train was leaving in a few hours. Waiting at the train station was not terrible-though there was a lack of seating anywhere, and people milling about waiting for their trains. I bought a sandwich and waited, then made my way onto the train once it arrived. The train ride itself was around five to six hours, during which I occupied myself by listening to my iPod, reading, and making small-conversation with the gentleman sitting next to me-in French, of course. At some point I fell asleep, the long trip getting to me.

We finally arrived in Paris, at the Gare de Lyon. As luck would have it, I was immediately welcomed by the bustle and hustle of Paris and its many inhabitants, both native and touristic. I grabbed my bags and plunged into a crowd moving in the direction I wanted to go, weaving in and out before making my way up and down flights of stairs to get to the metro station that was adjoining the gare. I bought a metro ticket because my Pass Navigo was with the family I was going to be staying with, and struggled with getting my bags through the narrow metro entryway. My first order of business was to succeed in getting myself lost trying to find a map of the subway-though I had been in Paris previously its metro system sadly was not ingrained in my memory. Finding a map, I groaned inwardly as I looked at the number of changes I would need to make in order to make it to Eglise d’Auteil, my stop. I had arrived on a Thursday, getting to Paris around the time that everyone was heading home from work. Thus, I was treated to packed subway trains, and had to wait while several passed by before my bags and I would fit onto a train. I lugged my bags up and down flights of stairs, vowing that I would take a taxi to the airport for my return after the hassle of squeezing through crowds with my baggage.

I arrived at my stop after an hour and half of rush-hour metro travel, and proceeded to call my family. While the call was being made, I surfaced above ground to a suburban Paris of sorts in the 16th arrondissement, an avenue lined with small shops and “apartments.” The Seine was off to my right, a bridge spanning its dirty green water, and the Eiffel Tower was visible in the distance. I was finally in Paris. I walked down the Avenue Theophile Auteil, verifying the directions to the home I would be staying in. Madame Chomel greeted me, welcoming me into the building. I loaded my bags onto the tiniest of elevators I have ever been in, while she sent me up a great distance to the second floor, meeting me there. I followed her into the apartment, which could qualify as a house in its own right. A massive grand foyer with a vaulted ceiling stretched out, a large salon to the right and a kitchen on the left. Bedrooms linked off the main hallway, my own being through another long hallway. I would be staying in Baptiste’s room, the son of Monsieur and Madame Chomel, one of three children. I met him first, a cute twelve-year old who would undoubtedly be a player once he was older-he was cheery and not at all shy, and I was hardly able to keep up with his fast-paced French. Madame and Monsieur Chomel, having had students from Alliance Française for many years now, spoke articulately and allowed me to understand them clearly. At this point I had not used English in a long time, so my French was rapidly getting better. They complimented me on my French, and made polite conversation over a dinner of rice with a curry chicken mix-asking about Obama (every person I met in France asked me my opinion about Obama-he’s awfully popular there), my schooling, and why I was in France.

After dinner, I went to my room, getting the wireless password from Monsieur Chomel-finally having a reliable source of internet for the first time in a month (the McDonalds in Nice had wireless that was sometimes questionable, and then it shut down for two weeks!). My family provided me with a map of the city, as well as pointing out the easiest way to get to school and various other locations around the city. I thanked them, then promptly passed out-weary from a day’s worth of traveling. In any case, it’s Friday now, and I will take the day to relax, go out, and explore the “most romantic city in the world.”

A Day in Nice

A Day in Nice-June 14th, 2009
My summer program in France is conducted through Alliance Française, a French language program with locations all over the world, and in many places all throughout France. My first stop, therefore, is Nice. Now in my second week here, I have fallen in love with the place, and have adjusted delightfully well to the amazing weather, beaches, and great food.

I moved into an apartment owned by an older French woman, a divorcée that I have breakfast with each morning, talking about the United States, my life, her grandchildren, or what is currently playing on the radio. My room is remarkably large, with a large balcony that overlooks the Place Garibaldi, one of the larger squares in Nice. I have a full sized bed, a dresser and a wardrobe, a closet, two desks, and large windows. My apartment is right on a bustling street, so each morning I wake up to the sounds of the city waking up. My language courses start in the afternoon, so I have the morning to myself-usually to walk around and explore the city. There are a great number of people, tourists from all over France, Europe, and overseas. Wandering by myself, I walk through Vieux Nice, or the old city, weaving through the narrow streets that are lined by souvenir shops, small cafés, and other boutiques, ultimately ending near the Marche de Fleurs and the beaches. I peruse the market, where there is freshly caught seafood of all sorts, spices, souvenirs, paintings, and of course-a huge assortment of flowers.

After pausing near the beach (I usually preferred staying near the Beau Rivage plage), where all sorts of people can be found (topless elderly French women and their speedo-wearing husbands or a man wandering around in a penis costume), I head back towards the Place Garibaldi. I stop in a small bakery in Vieux Nice on the way, picking up a freshly baked baguette-its glorious smell making me hungry as it burns my hand. A small interjection about this bread: people line up outside to get bread from this boulangerie, and often leave with a minimum of two loaves. It is also amazingly cheap, and perfect for making sandwiches. After reaching the Place, I swing into Monoprix to pick up some gouda cheese and tomato, then back to my apartment. There, I make a sandwich of sliced gouda, tomato, along with some basil and a sprinkle of dried mint. I head back out to the Place and sit on a bench, eating my sandwich and people-watching.

Some observations about Nice:
1) Everyone smokes.
2) There is a large population of elderly people.
3) Just because someone’s French does not mean they’re native to Nice-they’re probably a tourist as well.
4) Dogs are extremely popular-everyone has them, from small terriers to German shepherds. The more macho the guy, the smaller his dog. Scrawnier guys tend to have larger dogs, and women and the older population tend to have terriers or other pocket-variety canines.
5) The streets are an obstacle course of dog poop-it is not required to pick up after your pet, unfortunately.
6) Everything is within walking distance and walking is the best way to discover more about the city.
7) The beach is extremely popular.
8) Oh yeah, in case I didn’t mention it-the beach is extremely popular.

After eating, I head to class-four hours of grammar, listening comprehension, and oral practice. My class is extremely small, consisting of three other Americans, a Finnish girl, and two Mexicans. We move at a fairly slow pace, trying to allow the weaker students to keep up-and it allows me to refresh the French I learned three years prior. When class is over, I walk back to the Place, and jet towards a popular place that sells socca, a specialty of Nice. If I get there in time, I can avoid the long line that inevitably piles up. Socca is a pretty simple dish, made with mostly chickpeas and olive oil. It’s baked on a huge dish, somewhat similar to a giant crepe. When served, a portion of it is scraped onto a plate and then sprinkled with a pepper-seasoning, then eaten by hand. Delicious, albeit oily-and is great to eat from time to time. I take my food to the beach, where I eat it and spend some time on the rocky beach, enjoying the sea breeze.

Towards the evening, I head over to McDonalds, where I get free WiFi-there, I check my email, get on skype, and get told how lucky I am to be in Nice. It’s true, I am-and I love it.

Summer in Paris

I have officially completed my first week in Paris (sadly, this doesn’t mean I get a certificate of achievement. I really like those, so I’m a little bummed). My consolation prize I suppose is the city itself—busy, self-important, but enchanting. I am living with a lovely French family in the southeast portion of the city on the 5th floor of a pretty massive apartment complex. I have my own room with wi-fi, which is definitely a plus, and they feed me!
This weekend they have gone on holiday: Bastille Day is Tuesday, July 14. Having the place to myself has been nice, but sadly I have resorted to a bread-cheese-wine diet (cooking isn’t exactly my forte) but it seems to be treating me well. Yesterday I did big sights (Musee d’Orsay, the Rodin museum, a boat trip down the Seine) with a friend of mine from high school who is backpacking across Europe, and we finished our evening at Trocadero, a plaza with some of the best views of the Eiffel Tower. We spoke with some Frenchmen, drank some (a lot of?) wine, ate camembert…a beautiful evening. We met some German tourists who thought we were hilarious (did you know that ‘smooth’ has a sexual connotation in German? Neither did I) and had some excellent tips for some other travel cities.
Its almost time for me to go to school for the day—I’m in the first level (oops) so it’s easy but I’m still learning things. My French teacher in middle school was Polish, and turns out she taught us completely wrong pronunciation. Fantastic! So I have a lot of refreshing and relearning to do. À bientôt!

Reflections: A summer in Europe

First impressions of London? London is quite different from Amsterdam and Paris. I don’t mean just the language either. While both Amsterdam and Paris were laid back, London moves at a pace faster than almost any city in the world (the only possible exception being New York City). The program seems fun so far. I have a pretty amazing Shakespeare teacher. He is an American expat, who enjoys teaching his subject as any teacher I have ever met. The people that are in the program also promise to make the next 5 weeks quite fun. I am eagerly looking forward to doing all the things that I might have missed the last time I was here, but more important that that I cannot wait to experience the London theater scene. While I am here the two plays I want to see most are Hamlet with Jude Law and Waiting for Godot featuring Patrick Stewart and Ian McClellan. Waiting for Godot probably ranks a bit higher because I have always loved both of those actors.
My schedule will also allow me to explore the city of London. There is so much to see that I don’t even know where to start. The Natural History Museum is right down the street so probably there. I am staying in Kensington, one of the highest-class boroughs in all of London. My dorm is a converted flat that is next door to the French ambassador and down the street from one of Dustin Hoffman’s houses.
So far, we have had our first week of classes, and signed up for program-sponsored cultural events. These are events that are subsidized by AIFS and are designed to give us a better idea of what London is like. Through AIFS, I will go see Wicked (for the first time), to a cricket match, to the dog races, and, finally, on a boat cruise through the Thames.
Overall this promises to be an incredibly rewarding trip. I cannot wait to get started, and already have I realized that it will go by too quickly.

This weekend I headed out to Vienna to meet up with a friend of mine from UTD named Heather. However, I was planning on continuing on to Salzburg, so all of the hostels that I researched and everything I had planned to do was a three-hour train ride away. It was when I was riding up the escalator in Vien Mitte. I was in a foreign city, where I knew nobody, did not know where to stay, and did not speak a single word of the language. First order of business was to find a place to stay for the next two nights. So what did I do? I picked a direction and walked with my bag in tow. Eventually, I came to a line of cabs that took me to the nearest hotel that (luckily) had vacancies.
I got settled and then immediately struck out to try to find something to do for my first night in the foreign country. So I found my way to a local establishment and started to make friends with the locals (who thankfully spoke a lot of English).
The next morning I headed out to the palace grounds, after looking at things to do decided to go take a gander at the Austrian crown jewels. I had seen the British crown jewels and was expecting much of the same. The Austrian jewels however are much different. Instead of being a series of crowns ornamented with jewels taken from across a worldwide empire, they consisted swords made of narwhal horn, and stylistically were very different. One piece of clothing that takes center stage is a series of elaborate mantels. These varied by size and extravagance based on who commissioned them. It was interesting to see the difference in wealth between Austria and England. While the British Empire reigned supreme, the Austrian empire could not even hope to match the wealth, and this fact is reflected in the crown jewels.
On Sunday, I went and visited the Austrian zoo. It was an absolutely gorgeous day, and so I spent the entire day wandering around the zoo gazing at all the magnificent animals. There were cheetahs, polar bears, bats, and penguins…along with everything in between. The vastness of the zoo cannot be overstated. On all sides this area is surrounded by city, yet here was an oasis of natural space about 50 acres in area. It was huge!
My favorite part of Austria was the food. Meat prepared in 100 different ways, and of course the schnitzel was awesome. To say that I enjoyed Austria would be considered an understatement.