This past week was our first week with nothing to do...besides looking for jobs and being tourists. The looking for jobs thing has been a bit more difficult than we thought, most likely because it's summer, and Argentines are slow at responding to anything, but we are hopeful and still sending out resumes to anything we can find.
ALTHOUGH -- Jill got an internship (that will turn into a paying job) at a really cool start up company called Spanglish. It's kind of like speed dating, except with language exchange and they've done so well that they were able to start a language school, where Jill will get free classes in exchange for labor!
Touristy things we've done this week
MALBA- the (museum of Latin American art Buenos Aires) We tried to go last Saturday, but the line was at least an hour and a half wait, so we decided to come early the next morning and figured Argentines wouldn't wake up until 3. That wasn't exactly true, but the line was only 30ish minutes (it was the last day before the exhibit ended) The exhibit everyone was coming to see was MR. AMERICA- ANDY WARHOL -- and guess where every single picture was imported from? Yep, that's right, Mr. Warhol's birthplace and Elana's - Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania! What a small world. Anyways, it was a cool exhibit and we hadn't seen EVERYTHING before, certain pieces must have been traveling for a while. THEN we saw Alfred Hitchcock's "Rear Window" ( in English) for the first time and loved it!
Recoleta Cemetery - A famous and huge cemetery, where lots of well known Argentines, whose names are now streets or subway stops are kept. ALSO Ms. Eva Peron's tomb is there, although apparently, she was actually moved from the spot in the 80's when all that disappeared stuff was going on and now it's just a big empty mausoleum with flowers and engraving with messages of love, that nobody realizes is empty and waits in lines to take pictures of. Obviously we waited in line with them. The cemetery has no grass and no one is actually buried underneath the ground, there are just all these personal mausoleums with beautiful statues and intricately designed doorways with the casket resting right there behind the doors. It's like a little city with lots of "houses" and narrow stone streets and loads of tourists walking around taking pictures.
Palermo Soho-- is actually the neighborhood we live right next to and walk through all the time, but we've never just taken the time to stroll around and window shop, so we did. Palermo Soho is a super ritzy, super hip, super pretty neighborhood that we would love to live in, but could never afford to. Every restaurant is cute and perfectly decorated and has beautifully lit terraces and every time we walk by them we say "MAN, I wish our friends and family were here so we could take them!"
The same day, we went to a Spanglish event at a bar in Palermo Soho. As we were signing up and paying for the event, the woman who started Spanglish, who Jill met at her interview said, “So you’ll be joining us next week?” Jill looked confused. Then the woman smiled and said, “ You didn’t check your email, did you?”
And this is how Jill found out she got the job! She didn’t have to pay or anything.
So, we met some cool Argentines, exchanged languages , some email addresses, had some drinks and a good night! ( There isn’t a work in Spanish for cheesy, if there was, we would say it here.)
Also in Palermo Soho, at a super hip hair salon/ oxygen bar called “Blow” a very scared Jill got her hair chopped off. We had to be careful to specify that she didn’t want a mullet nor a Florence Henderson flip do…both of which are common styles here. She realized that she’s always been curious to see what short hair would look like and that life is short and hair is hair is hair.
So for those of you who don’t know, we cook everything in small saucepans, yes everything (eggs, onions, vegetables, soja patties, stirfrys, etc) because we don’t have a frying pan. Also, we open cans by stabbing them with dull knives and letting the juices drain from the poked holes. Then we stab a few more holes into the cans and CAREFULLY push back the tin and shake out the contents of the can into the tiny saucepan ( no can opener either)
Well, for some reason, (good karma) a blender has appeared in our kitchen in the past few weeks. We immediately brainstormed all the possible things we could do and make and eat with this blender before it inevitably disappeared or broke. We made fruit smoothies a few times and then we got the idea to make hummus! There is no hummus in any of the markets here and we miss it. A lot. Probably more than some people…just kidding...maybe.
We bought a giant bag of dried chickpeas ( the economical option) soaked them for 10 hours and cooked ‘em for 40 minutos. We bought lemons and spices and garlic oh my. Everything we would need to make delicious hummus. Once we started spooning the chick peas into the blender and watched them spin around, without being blended, we realized that maybe this blender just didn’t have it in it. At first we thought the chickpeas were just very hot and that it was just steam coming out from the blender, but when we taste tested the clumpy concoction, we realized it was smoke. Oops.
Fortunately, we only used a small amount of chick peas to start so we only had one batch of delicious electrical fire tasting hummus to toss. BUT we weren’t about to give up. Our hummus addiction wouldn’t let us. So we had to think.
FIRST we tried to fork it. This worked for a small batch, but Jill’s arm grew tired and it took too long.
NEXT, Elana tried mashing with a wooden spoon, but the slippery little chick peas wouldn’t be mashed.
FINALLY, Elana and Nahuel found a good old fashioned mortar and pestle and got to smashing them old school. With a little oil and salt, we had something that resembled hummus and tastes like it too.
WEATHER
Floods. February is usually a rainy month here, which we were prepared for. What we were not prepared for, along with the rest of Buenos Aires, was that in one storm, it rained more than it usually does in the entire month of February combined. Two weeks later, there was another storm, just as bad as the first. There has been flooding, electrical problems, train delays and branches everywhere except on our street. Only a few blocks down from our house though, the flood waters got so high, people were wading home waist deep. Ick. The closest we came to having to deal with this was when the second storm started, we were eating lunch at our favorite restaurant and realized that the corner outside was underwater.
Summer is coming to an end and you can already feel it. Nights are getting a lot cooler and the days aren’t hitting temps in the high 80s like they were just last week. The days have been mid to high 70s with not as much humidity and very cool breezes. We've been able to wear pants lately, which is a nice change from the five skirts and tanktops we've been rotating through since we got here.
EARTHQUAKES
All of the earthquakes, first in Haiti, then Chile then Japan and now northern parts of Argentina are scaring us. But not because we are directly affected, just because we are paranoid. We’ve already looked up maps of all the fault lines in Argentina, Massachusetts and Pennsylvania and read instructions on how to prepare for an earthquake and what to do when you feel one. We’ve decided on our safe spot, just in case anyone was wondering…and you should too. Reports say that people felt some aftershocks and the quake from Chile and from Salta and Mendoza, Argentina in Buenos Aires, but we think that was only in the country. Buenos Aires is pretty big and we are on the far east coast, as far as you could possibly be from the epicenters.
Thanks to everyone who has been asking how are we are though.
On a much happier note, it is Purim! We looked up some different Jabad houses around our neighborhood and the rabbi from a Jabad in Palermo Soho emailed us back, so we decided to go. When we first arrived, we knew that we had the right place because there was a little boy standing outside in a suit and a kepah. Also, we’ve heard that the security at all things Jewish is really tight, so as soon as we started going up the steps, we were interrogated and needed to show IDs etc etc etc. But we still got in.
Well, we didn’t realize it was a Lubavitch( aka very religious) Jabad. We were walked to the woman’s side of the room and sat down in a small group of about 15 women, all who stared at us and we were instantly very grateful we had worn long skirts and sweaters. A woman named Rivkah walked over and introduced herself to us, in English and asked where we were from, what we were doing etc. Of course, she knows a family of Weinsteins in Pittsburgh, her son is at a yeshiva in New York and her husband studied in Morristown, New Jersey (where Elana’s brother currently is and we’re sure giddy at the fact we wound up at a Lubavitch Jabad)
We waited a while for the men to be done with the Shabbat services and Elana tried to explain what Purim services were like for her growing up to Jill. Hamantashen, Queen Esther costumes, noise makers, screaming at Haman’s name and lots of children running around. This was a little bit different, there were no cookies, much to our dismay, but we were given noisemakers (gregors) and saw one or two little Queen Esthers prancing around.
When the cantor began the reading of the Megillah (the Purim story), all in Hebrew ( we tried to read the translation in Spanish), everything got a bit more familiar feeling when everyone screamed and barked and meowed and shook their noise makers at Haman’s(the bad guy of Purim) name.
At the end of the reading, a nice girl sitting behind us told us, in English, that there was a party for young people at a different Jabad house that we should go to afterwards. We ended up not going (it was too far) but it was a very sweet invitation and reminded us how nice and welcoming Jewish communities are in any country.
One funny thing we noticed was that even though the Rabbi was speaking in Spanish, we could see an obvious universal quality in the way that he and probably all Rabbis speak.
On a side note, we don’t think Jill is as lactose intolerant as we thought. We think it might have been a few week long stomach bug of sorts. YAY!
There are lots of fun things coming up this week ( Jill’s birthday!) so hopefully we’ll have a lot more to write about next time!
Be safe! We love you all. Besossss
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Friday, February 19, 2010
Rolling down the river
We didn’t realize that we needed to get out of the city… until we got out of the city.
Last Saturday, we took a 50 minute train ride (1 peso each way) to a small town called Tigre. We spent the day sitting next to the river on a little island of grass, eating cheese and crackers, swatting away mosquitoes, watching our friend juggle and coming to realize that in a cruel twist of fate, Jill has suddenly become lactose intolerant- a very unfortunate development since the only Argentine specialties she can really enjoy are ice cream and cheese.
On a lighter note, we took a boat ride down and around the river and drifted by lots of cutsey and colorful river side houses and a surprising number of dogs on docks. A lot of Tigre, including the quaint summer houses on the river and markets full of wicker and wood reminded us of Cape Cod.
It was a very nice little escape from the city. Having to depend on the subway to get us to classes during rush hour (8:30) each morning was/is quickly beginning to take a toll on our fondness for the big city life (not saying we don’t like living in the city, BUT we are more than happy to be in a more neighborhoody area…)
Every morning, each subway car is literally bursting with people. Business men and women, students, children, babies, subway car vendors force their way into a car more than packed with people trying not to get their ribs poked or their pockets picked. If you are lucky enough( lucky is debatable) to squeeze your way in between someone’s rear end, a stroller and the sliding doors, you will spend the rest of the ride far too intimately pressed up against sweaty people you do not and do not want to know. The bright side of the lack of space is that if you can’t manage to find an empty spot on the railing to hold onto, there is NO chance of loosing your balance or even swaying back and forth because you can’t move.
BUT that’s enough complaining.
The moral of that was that it was nice to get away for an afternoon.
Side note: We just ate an Alfajor: a famous Argentine postre (dessert) which are commonly eaten for lunch…or breakfast…or as a snack. It has the basic structure of an oreo but is about the size of a ringding. The two cookies that make up the bulk of this deliciousness are the lovechild of cake, a biscuit and a cookie (sometimes there are 3 of them) and in between each cakeiscutookie is a thick layer of silky smooth dulce de leche.Sometimes the entire Alfajor is smothered in white or dark chocolate, other times it is dipped in a glaze and other times just rolled in sugar.MMMM
The other night while walking home from a mercado (which Jill learned today are frequently called “chinos” because they are all owned by Chinese immigrants who apparently get a sweet deal with the government if they open up their own mercado, the reason behind why they are on every corner) when we stopped in front of a bright yellow and purple painted building. We had seen the building before, but like most store fronts in the morning up until mid day, it is impossible to tell if it actually ever opens and if it does open what it could possibly be.
This particular building, at around 8 pm was blasting Middle Eastern music and dimly light with red and blue lights. We crossed the street to peek in and saw a group of women shaking their thangs dressed like Esmeralda.
BELLY DANCING CLASSES! (known as clases de Arabe ) We immediately walked in and picked up the class schedules and went back home to email the teacher for more information; the first class would be free!
So tonight, we went to our first clase de Arabe. After we walked into the studio, we were immediately handed our very own Esmeralda dance waist scarf jingly sarong type thing ( we will figure out the real name for this later) The class was all women, one or two looked our age but the majority was made up of middle aged women or older, all Argentinans who kissed us on the cheeks as they came in, as is the custom with every where you go and everyone you meet. The instructor’s name was Marcelo and he had Patrick Swayze hips, goddess like fluidity and could pop his chest like Ciara. The class was completely in Spanish (duh) but it was never a problem ( even for Jill), we just copied Marcelo's suave moves and watched ourselves shake it in the giant mirrors. We did excellently (or something along those lines, says Marcelo) for our first class and will most certainly be going back.
Only a few more months until we’ll be back in the states and auditioning for So You Think You Can Dance. Suck it, Shakira.
Also helping us on our path to dance SUPER stardom, we went to our first milonga the other night. A milonga is a tango dance lesson followed by the floor opening up for everyone, no matter your level or experience with tango, to dance until 2 am, on a weekday. There are milongas just about every night in every barrio (neighborhood) in the city. The one we went to was in one of the oldest and most historic neighborhoods in BA, San Telmo on a Tuesday night at 8:30. There were a surprising number of people considering it was weeknight and it only got more crowded by the time we were leaving at 1130 ish (we are clearly still not used to Buenos Aires timing)
Because we've never been to a milonga nor have we ever danced tango before, we didn't know it would be a mistake to wear flip flops. They say that high heels (tacones) are the easiest shoes to dance tango in and after our failed attempts at sliding backwards and keeping our balance in flip flops,we will have to invest in some heels if we want to go back, which we do.
We will have more to write tomorrow, but Jill has to study for her final exam en espanol!
Besitos
Last Saturday, we took a 50 minute train ride (1 peso each way) to a small town called Tigre. We spent the day sitting next to the river on a little island of grass, eating cheese and crackers, swatting away mosquitoes, watching our friend juggle and coming to realize that in a cruel twist of fate, Jill has suddenly become lactose intolerant- a very unfortunate development since the only Argentine specialties she can really enjoy are ice cream and cheese.
On a lighter note, we took a boat ride down and around the river and drifted by lots of cutsey and colorful river side houses and a surprising number of dogs on docks. A lot of Tigre, including the quaint summer houses on the river and markets full of wicker and wood reminded us of Cape Cod.
It was a very nice little escape from the city. Having to depend on the subway to get us to classes during rush hour (8:30) each morning was/is quickly beginning to take a toll on our fondness for the big city life (not saying we don’t like living in the city, BUT we are more than happy to be in a more neighborhoody area…)
Every morning, each subway car is literally bursting with people. Business men and women, students, children, babies, subway car vendors force their way into a car more than packed with people trying not to get their ribs poked or their pockets picked. If you are lucky enough( lucky is debatable) to squeeze your way in between someone’s rear end, a stroller and the sliding doors, you will spend the rest of the ride far too intimately pressed up against sweaty people you do not and do not want to know. The bright side of the lack of space is that if you can’t manage to find an empty spot on the railing to hold onto, there is NO chance of loosing your balance or even swaying back and forth because you can’t move.
BUT that’s enough complaining.
The moral of that was that it was nice to get away for an afternoon.
Side note: We just ate an Alfajor: a famous Argentine postre (dessert) which are commonly eaten for lunch…or breakfast…or as a snack. It has the basic structure of an oreo but is about the size of a ringding. The two cookies that make up the bulk of this deliciousness are the lovechild of cake, a biscuit and a cookie (sometimes there are 3 of them) and in between each cakeiscutookie is a thick layer of silky smooth dulce de leche.Sometimes the entire Alfajor is smothered in white or dark chocolate, other times it is dipped in a glaze and other times just rolled in sugar.MMMM
The other night while walking home from a mercado (which Jill learned today are frequently called “chinos” because they are all owned by Chinese immigrants who apparently get a sweet deal with the government if they open up their own mercado, the reason behind why they are on every corner) when we stopped in front of a bright yellow and purple painted building. We had seen the building before, but like most store fronts in the morning up until mid day, it is impossible to tell if it actually ever opens and if it does open what it could possibly be.
This particular building, at around 8 pm was blasting Middle Eastern music and dimly light with red and blue lights. We crossed the street to peek in and saw a group of women shaking their thangs dressed like Esmeralda.
BELLY DANCING CLASSES! (known as clases de Arabe ) We immediately walked in and picked up the class schedules and went back home to email the teacher for more information; the first class would be free!
So tonight, we went to our first clase de Arabe. After we walked into the studio, we were immediately handed our very own Esmeralda dance waist scarf jingly sarong type thing ( we will figure out the real name for this later) The class was all women, one or two looked our age but the majority was made up of middle aged women or older, all Argentinans who kissed us on the cheeks as they came in, as is the custom with every where you go and everyone you meet. The instructor’s name was Marcelo and he had Patrick Swayze hips, goddess like fluidity and could pop his chest like Ciara. The class was completely in Spanish (duh) but it was never a problem ( even for Jill), we just copied Marcelo's suave moves and watched ourselves shake it in the giant mirrors. We did excellently (or something along those lines, says Marcelo) for our first class and will most certainly be going back.
Only a few more months until we’ll be back in the states and auditioning for So You Think You Can Dance. Suck it, Shakira.
Also helping us on our path to dance SUPER stardom, we went to our first milonga the other night. A milonga is a tango dance lesson followed by the floor opening up for everyone, no matter your level or experience with tango, to dance until 2 am, on a weekday. There are milongas just about every night in every barrio (neighborhood) in the city. The one we went to was in one of the oldest and most historic neighborhoods in BA, San Telmo on a Tuesday night at 8:30. There were a surprising number of people considering it was weeknight and it only got more crowded by the time we were leaving at 1130 ish (we are clearly still not used to Buenos Aires timing)
Because we've never been to a milonga nor have we ever danced tango before, we didn't know it would be a mistake to wear flip flops. They say that high heels (tacones) are the easiest shoes to dance tango in and after our failed attempts at sliding backwards and keeping our balance in flip flops,we will have to invest in some heels if we want to go back, which we do.
We will have more to write tomorrow, but Jill has to study for her final exam en espanol!
Besitos
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Catching up...
Because we took so long to set up our blog, we feel we should dedicate a post to updating everyone about our first month (plus a week or two) that we've been here.
Well. we got here safely, just in case anyone was wondering...After getting off the plane, we were greeted by a newly established( 2 days prior to our arrival) $130 dollar fee to Americans entering the country...granted we won't have to pay this fee for another 10 years, and it's to even out the absurb costs Argentinians need to pay if they are lucky enough to get a Visa into the US...but STILL. Anyways, we were picked up at the airport by a lovely man named Angel who led us outside into the beautiful warm sunny summer day and drove us to Bayres, the bed and breakfast we stayed at for our first week.
Something we found out our first day here: People in Argentina do not like to work...they like to take long lunch breaks and never return to their businesses.They also sometimes don't like to open their stores on the weekends, or on Mondays, if they don't feel like working that day. You have to find this out by showing up and reading the "cerrado" sign on the door with the obviously wrong hours listed below it.
Skip to New Year's Eve--- Carlos, the owner of the b&b invited us to a New Year's Eve dinner that he was hosting for all of his tenants. At the dinner, where we were only able to eat lettuce garnish, fried potatos, ketchup and rolls we met people from Brazil, Colombia, Venezuela, Finland etc. Everyone was drinking wine and having conversations in spite of the fact that there were 4 different languages being spoken. We watched fireworks from a balcony: both in the distance and ones being lit 10 feet below us by some children on the street. At 2am, we watched the ball drop in NYC and started making plans to go out to a club, which doesn't open till 2:30 and doesn't get going till 3:30 or 4....we were very tired.
But we made it! To 6 am! And then we walked home in the daylight and went to bed until 3pm.
So, Carlos, the owner of the B&B and the most adorable little french bulldog named Fidel, yes after Castro, no he's not a dictator, offered to rent us an extra room in his apartment a few doors down from the B&B in a neighborhood called Palermo Hollywood. After realizing it would take a while to find an apartment on our own, we said YES! We've been in the same apartment since then, and live next to two Colombian boys, Sam and Nauhel who we met that night at New Years. and we love them.
We have a beautiful roof deck, air conditioning, we are within walking distance to everything we would need, a puppy who gives so many kisses and sometimes Fidel's papa, Bamboo comes to visit, AND we live with two of our best friends here who help us practice Spanish all we want...so we are in no rush to leave.
We got our TEFL certifications after 1 month of classes, where we met a lot of really great people who we still see and make sushi and crafts with. We are currently looking for jobs in a language institute of which there are many in Buenos Aires, so hopefully something will come along soon.
We are in our second week of Spanish classes now from 9-1 5 days a week and we frequent a asian inspired vegetarian restaurant just 2 blocks from our school just about every day:)
Thing we love.
-sunshine
-80 degree weather
-vegetarian tenedor libres (buffet)
-our new friends
-learning spanish
-Fidel(ito)
-our roof
-cute little cafes & restaurants everywhere
-art ferias
Things we need to get used to
-dog poop EVERYWHERE
-broken sidewalks
-people looking at us funny when we ask about iced coffee but will offer you ice with your wine
-las cucharachas
-the Argentinean accent
-nights that end at 6am
-people refusing to give you moneda -change( apparently there is a shortage)
So that's pretty much an update up until now. Later posts will be more specific and will include pictures!
Besitos
Well. we got here safely, just in case anyone was wondering...After getting off the plane, we were greeted by a newly established( 2 days prior to our arrival) $130 dollar fee to Americans entering the country...granted we won't have to pay this fee for another 10 years, and it's to even out the absurb costs Argentinians need to pay if they are lucky enough to get a Visa into the US...but STILL. Anyways, we were picked up at the airport by a lovely man named Angel who led us outside into the beautiful warm sunny summer day and drove us to Bayres, the bed and breakfast we stayed at for our first week.
Something we found out our first day here: People in Argentina do not like to work...they like to take long lunch breaks and never return to their businesses.They also sometimes don't like to open their stores on the weekends, or on Mondays, if they don't feel like working that day. You have to find this out by showing up and reading the "cerrado" sign on the door with the obviously wrong hours listed below it.
Skip to New Year's Eve--- Carlos, the owner of the b&b invited us to a New Year's Eve dinner that he was hosting for all of his tenants. At the dinner, where we were only able to eat lettuce garnish, fried potatos, ketchup and rolls we met people from Brazil, Colombia, Venezuela, Finland etc. Everyone was drinking wine and having conversations in spite of the fact that there were 4 different languages being spoken. We watched fireworks from a balcony: both in the distance and ones being lit 10 feet below us by some children on the street. At 2am, we watched the ball drop in NYC and started making plans to go out to a club, which doesn't open till 2:30 and doesn't get going till 3:30 or 4....we were very tired.
But we made it! To 6 am! And then we walked home in the daylight and went to bed until 3pm.
So, Carlos, the owner of the B&B and the most adorable little french bulldog named Fidel, yes after Castro, no he's not a dictator, offered to rent us an extra room in his apartment a few doors down from the B&B in a neighborhood called Palermo Hollywood. After realizing it would take a while to find an apartment on our own, we said YES! We've been in the same apartment since then, and live next to two Colombian boys, Sam and Nauhel who we met that night at New Years. and we love them.
We have a beautiful roof deck, air conditioning, we are within walking distance to everything we would need, a puppy who gives so many kisses and sometimes Fidel's papa, Bamboo comes to visit, AND we live with two of our best friends here who help us practice Spanish all we want...so we are in no rush to leave.
We got our TEFL certifications after 1 month of classes, where we met a lot of really great people who we still see and make sushi and crafts with. We are currently looking for jobs in a language institute of which there are many in Buenos Aires, so hopefully something will come along soon.
We are in our second week of Spanish classes now from 9-1 5 days a week and we frequent a asian inspired vegetarian restaurant just 2 blocks from our school just about every day:)
Thing we love.
-sunshine
-80 degree weather
-vegetarian tenedor libres (buffet)
-our new friends
-learning spanish
-Fidel(ito)
-our roof
-cute little cafes & restaurants everywhere
-art ferias
Things we need to get used to
-dog poop EVERYWHERE
-broken sidewalks
-people looking at us funny when we ask about iced coffee but will offer you ice with your wine
-las cucharachas
-the Argentinean accent
-nights that end at 6am
-people refusing to give you moneda -change( apparently there is a shortage)
So that's pretty much an update up until now. Later posts will be more specific and will include pictures!
Besitos
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Bienvenidos!
"You should start a blog!" everyone said as we packed our bags for Argentina.
"Well I guess so, we will be in a new country," replied Elana
"We won't have to send out the same email 50 times," thought Jill
We've been living in Buenos Aires for just over a month and neither a blog nor emails have been written.
Woopsie daisies...we've been distracted. But lucky for you, February is rainy season and we're all caught up on American Idol, so we figured it's time to blog.
This won’t be a typical blog, because we’re not "typical" girls. While most expats would brag about dancing at discotecas till 9 in the morning, the enormously sized cheap beers and the juiciest steaks they ever devoured for just 10 U$D, we won't be. Instead you’ll be hearing about vegetarian buffets, stray dogs and their droppings found around the city, drum circles, subtitles, cafes, fruit markets, our search for café frio (iced coffee), art ferias, girly craft get togethers, bilingual games of bullshit (the card game), strategies for dealing with machismo, graffiti and the weather.
In other words, WE are the vegetables at the Asado.
P.S: For all you gringos, an Asado is an Argentine BBQ where piles of assorted meats are plated up and served, a few kilos per person…
"Well I guess so, we will be in a new country," replied Elana
"We won't have to send out the same email 50 times," thought Jill
We've been living in Buenos Aires for just over a month and neither a blog nor emails have been written.
Woopsie daisies...we've been distracted. But lucky for you, February is rainy season and we're all caught up on American Idol, so we figured it's time to blog.
This won’t be a typical blog, because we’re not "typical" girls. While most expats would brag about dancing at discotecas till 9 in the morning, the enormously sized cheap beers and the juiciest steaks they ever devoured for just 10 U$D, we won't be. Instead you’ll be hearing about vegetarian buffets, stray dogs and their droppings found around the city, drum circles, subtitles, cafes, fruit markets, our search for café frio (iced coffee), art ferias, girly craft get togethers, bilingual games of bullshit (the card game), strategies for dealing with machismo, graffiti and the weather.
In other words, WE are the vegetables at the Asado.
P.S: For all you gringos, an Asado is an Argentine BBQ where piles of assorted meats are plated up and served, a few kilos per person…
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