I'm not sure how blogs work, but I am going to give this a try.
My first day in Buenos Aires, Argentina started when I landed at EZE after a ten hour, relatively smooth, flight from IAH (Houston, TX). As I grabbed my carryon item and backpack, filled with an extra set of clothes just in case my luggage was lost, I fought the lasting effects of sleeping pills and six hours of sleep. As I rolled my luggage off the airplane and into the 39 degree terminal, I felt accomplished for completing my longest flight ever! That special feeling soon ended while getting my passport stamped.
The language barrier is real, folks! I strolled up to window number seven rolling my two suitcases behind me, and the immigration officer said something to me very quickly. I assumed she wanted to see my passport and for me to place my thumb onto the scanner. She made a comment to the male officer next to her...again, I have no idea what she said. Then she waved her hand, signaling me to take my hat off. I complied, and then she said another phrase. I said both verbally and visually, "I'm not sure what you said." This is the exact moment when my feeling of accomplishment vanished. The immigration officer stamped my passport, looked at me and said with attitude, "Thank you. Bye."
I walked around the corner and found Transfer Express, which is the taxi company my study abroad program made a reservation with. I found myself speaking very broken Spanish when I reached the reservation counter. My name was highlighted on the computer screen and I pointed to it. A Transfer Express representative guided me to my taxi driver and introduced us. "Hola, me llamo, Kevin." Finally, something that sounds similar to high school Spanish pops out of my mouth! I said, "Gracias" to the representative and loaded my luggage into the taxi.
The small manual chevrolet reminded me of the United States when I saw the Chevy symbol on the steering wheel. But the taxi driver was listening to a talk show on the radio, so I could not understand most of the conversation. It sounded political or economical in nature because the radio show hosts were talking about the "blue" dollar. Who knows though? It may have just been part of the everyday jabber. We started to leave the airport and my once calm nerves jumped into overdrive! This man had the worst road rage I had ever seen! He wasn't yelling, but tailgating the car in front of us by five inches while driving 80 km/hr made me put a hole into his floorboard where the break pedal should have been. I thought about my time driving in Los Angeles back home, but this made LA look like child's play. Cars all over the freeway disregard the painted lanes; tailgated each other by mear inches; cut one another off; blasted horns; and doing all of this at very high speeds. (I live in California...I know what fast driving looks like!)
I needed to do something to take my mind off the death defying driving which was taking place on the Buenos Aires freeways. I took a sip of my cool water and put my sunglasses on so the driver could not read my body language. Then the strangest thing happend. A-cappella voices singing eighth notes started playing on the radio; it was the Glee version of Don't Stop Believing. I started lip-syncing right after the guitar solo played, "A singer in a smokey room. A smell of wine and cheap perfume." What the heck was Glee's version of Don't Stop Believing doing playing on the radio in Buenos Aires, Argentina? Whatever the reason, it definitely took my mind off the horrendous and dangerous driving I was trying to mentally avoid.
I pulled up to my Residencia and unloaded my bags from the taxi trunk. I uttered, "gracias" to the driver and wandered into the building. This friendly old woman stood at the top of the stairs which faced me as I opened the very narrow door. “Hola, lkaskjhs fshsois shfalkal.” Oh no, the language barrier returned! After replying back with “hola,” I looked at her with the biggest confused face I had ever made. Fortunately, she knew I was supposed to be arriving later than the rest of my group, so she concluded my name was Kevin and that I was staying in room 401. She knocked on the door and my roommate, Bryan Campos, opened the door. Thank goodness Bryan could translate the very intimidating, and newer, Spanish language into a more comprehendible English. I introduced myself to Bryan and had an overwhelming sense of relief knowing he understood me and that I could understand him.
After unpacking my suitcases and signing forms, which were in Spanish where the language barrier returned to show its ugly face, I met my neighbors and fellow study abroad classmates. We went upstairs to the fourth floor for lunch. The food was very basic; vegetables, fruit, and water. However, the advice I received from my classmates was frightening. Tips to avoid becoming a pickpocketing victim; advice to only speak Spanish in public; and stories about how the Subte (subway) can be a dangerous place for inattentive travelers were some of the topics discussed at lunch. I returned to room 401 to grab my laptop and notebooks as we headed to meet with Guillermo, our Study Abroad Program Director.
Our small group of seven cautiously walked four blocks to meet up with the other two-thirds of our group and we were guided to the Subte, by Guillermo. Our Program Director swiped his Subte pass for all the students and led us down the stairs to our new form of transportation. Doors on the green cars slid open and we all jumped on. We travelled three stations to the north and exited; all without murmuring a single word of English. Making sure to keep up with the Director on the busy and hectic streets of Buenos Aires, we reached our destination. The I.S.A. office, where the study abroad program learning facilities are located, is very inconspicuous. Located in between two store fronts, we buzzed up to the second floor and were let into the building.
Professor Waisman introduced himself and the two courses we will be taking. Then each student introduced him or herself. I was one of the only students, if not the only one, who had never travelled outside the United States. The class was released to go on a short coffee break. Four classmates strolled down around the corner to a cafe named, Forrest Gump. It had absolutely nothing to do with the movie with Tom Hanks we all know and love, but the wall decorations consisted of black and white photos of actors and actresses from the late 40s’, 50s’, and early 60s’. Our professor walked in just a few minutes later and joined us. Professor Waisman offered to buy me and another student a coffee, which was exceedingly kind. The extremely caffeinated drink was very much needed as we headed back to the I.S.A. building just in time for class to resume. We discussed and hypothesized why certain countries were rich, and why others were poor. Globalization and Social Development - seems like it will be an intriguing class.
Our class finished and I decided to walk back to our Residencia with five girls instead of taking the Subte. The three mile walk was not that bad as I look back on it now, however, in the moment, it seemed super sketchy. The sun sets much earlier in the day because we are in the Southern Hemisphere, so it was dark when we finished class around 6:40pm. The streets were lively with pedestrian traffic, cars whizzing passed us, and stray dogs cruising the streets. We stopped at a few stores to look at maps of Buenos Aires, gluten-free food, and elephant trinkets, but ultimately made it back to our Residencia safely. In fact, because my Residencia was located four blocks away from the others’, the five girls walked ME home! (it was definitely a first) I was just following directions from my sister to never walk alone.
The shower with hot water was exactly what I needed after traveling from San Diego to Houston to Buenos Aires, and then exploring my new home for the next five weeks. While I was hoping to take more photos of the city and act like a tourist, I am waiting until I feel more comfortable and safe to use my GoPro or iPhone in public.
The language barrier absolutely deflated my confidence at first. However, as I explore the city and ask my classmates, “como se dice [blank] en espanol?”, I am beginning to pick up a few phrases to help safely maneuver my new home.
I think this is a good stopping point for my blog. I’ll try to update it as time permits. Remember, I’m here to study, not write on and on about my awesome time in a foreign country where the water in the toilet drains in the opposite direction! Anyway, Mom, Colleen, Kal, and Lana, I miss you. Colleen, I hope your Sea Life Adventure birthday party went well. To my buddies in Temecula, look for the Instagram hashtag we talked about!
To everyone who read my first post: Thanks!
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