Reed's Ramblings

The big day has arrived

2011-04-09T12:48:00.006-03:00

You may have noticed a severe lack of postings both here and on those other two blogs I try to write in whenever I have free time. Well, my work life continues to be busy, but that's no surprise. I like my job and am very devoted to it.

But the more complete silence as of late is because of another pending event that has required a lot of attention. Today I'm getting married. Yes, again, but now it's a big-time event!

Tons of hard work and crucial decisions have culminated in this day. A day where many friends and nearly all the family have made the trek down to Buenos Aires. The bachelor party is over (which, thank goodness because I would surely be dead if it had continued the entire week). The flowers are chosen. A decent night's sleep was had. The tuxedo is in hand. Just eight short hours from now, I'll still be married, but this time God is in on the deal. My parents are in on the deal, too, and they're pretty darn important.

Today we enjoy the fruits of our labor, and share them with everyone. It is an absolutely gorgeous day here in BsAs - the weather could not possibly be better. I know that by this time tomorrow, I'm going to be lamenting that it all passed by so quickly and hoping everyone had as much fun as I did.

More than anything, I've got the best girl in the world by my side, and that's plenty of cause for celebration right there! And maybe after a couple of weeks on the beach, I'll even get back into blogging again. But today's all about enjoying everything that brought us here. It's going to be an absolute blast...

Winter Wonderings

2011-02-14T07:51:00.004-03:00

I'm going to come off like a real jerk on this one. Just try to bear with me.

The blizzard of '11 was relatively major news down here in Argentina, even before it arrived. My wife's grandmother called us up to urgently direct us to warn my parents about the impending weather. Of course they were already prepared.

The Facebook messages came first. Many friends mocked the weather reports. They complained that the stores were sold out of bottled water while taking people to task for readying themselves like a nuclear attack was on the way. I wondered if I would be joining in in the snarky posturing or if I've matured enough to be more adult about the situation. At least I didn't have to decide.

And then the storm began to arrive, and once again Facebook was my source of news. "And so it begins," said one friend in a way that could have been anywhere from completely to not at all sarcastic. A few hours later calls of "Thundersnow!" rang out from all sides of the city. And it was good.

On the Buenos Aires morning news broadcast the day after, they showed subtitled interviews of stranded LSD motorists - before they had to ditch their cars. When I got to the office, all of my coworkers were asking about it. It was another reminder about how globally connected all of us are these days. And though we are smack dab in the middle of a beautiful summer here, I must say that I came away with mixed emotions.

All this news reminded me of how much joy the snow would bring when we were kids. It was never a hardship. On the contrary. My most vivid memory of grade school was a kickball game abruptly interrupted by the first icy flakes - not because of danger or worry, but because every kid on the blacktop had to celebrate the moment. Even helping my parents shovel the driveway was a chore we actually looked forward to, unlike, well, all the other ones. The best sledhill in town was at the end of my block. They permanently closed it because some unfortunate kid hit a tree. But it's got the most climbable fence in the world, so that didn't exactly stop us.

Even when I had to make the commute back from Schaumburg into town on those rare days when the snow would completely mess up everything and it would take three hours to get home, we just buckled up, took our time, and made the most of it. It felt like a small price to pay because it was something. Sure we lost some time, but it sure was pretty. (Note - I never had to abandon my car or anything, but seriously, I'm also not dumb enough to use Lake Shore Drive in a blizzard. Ah, there's the snark.)

I'm now three years removed from my last winter. Seeing all the photos, stories, videos, and more from Chicago, while I know that it has surely been a pain in the ass for a lot of people, I wish I could have been there to enjoy it. I still recall the last time this happened, January 1, 1999. There was no work that day anyway, so we watched movies, ate Chinese food and occasionally went outside to see how much had accumulated. And all of you will remember this day and your personal stories.

It's a gorgeous 85 degrees and sunny here. But in my longing, I appreciate such a gorgeous day all the less. What I wouldn't give to dive headlong into a pile of the powdery stuff right now. I guess I should head downstairs to the swimming pool I never have time to use. But it just seems so pedestrian by comparison.

All photos by Michael Apostolidis

The Path to Gratefulness

2011-01-09T12:32:00.004-03:00

I came down to Argentina with various objectives, and the major ones were all quite clear. I wanted to build a new team at my company that could continue successfully after my two years were up. I wanted to become fluent in Spanish. I wanted to really get to know some Argentines and embrace the local culture. I wanted to make some lasting friendships.

There were plenty of lesser goals, too. I wanted to see if the new knee could handle Ultimate. I wanted to travel the country and continent. I wanted to challenge myself in some way. I wanted to learn something new. I wanted to have a lot of fun. Until this very moment, reading what I've just written, I didn't take stock of how much I accomplished these 2.5 years (and counting). I should probably be more proud of myself.

Of course, I encountered many things I was not anticipating. That can happen when you move to the other side of the world. And the happiest accident of them all was meeting Belu. Being a "short-timer," I figured I would date a few girls and generally enjoy a bachelor lifestyle. Meeting the love of my life was a chance occurrence that required such a long list of improbable things to take place. Looking back, it is truly a miracle. I suppose some would call it destiny. I often think about my great fortune in finding her. For you to see just what a slim chance we had of meeting, let's see how we got here.

May, 1993: In a tough decision, I opt for the University of Michigan over the University of Illinois for my undergraduate studies. I was accepted to Michigan very late, and had already gotten excited about life in Champaign-Urbana. Sure, it's possible that I still would have ended up the same path, but who knows?

April, 1995: Having applied and eventually accepted into the Business School at Michigan, I decide to stick with Economics because I find it more interesting and the "onda" much preferred. That and professor Jan Gerson gave me a pretty good sales pitch. It was the right call for me, as I dig my hands deeper into statistical research and find each consecutive step more fascinating. Yes, I'm pretty nerdy.

February, 1997: In the middle of an extensive job search, I interview with the analytics department at the Nielsen Company. After much frustration with what other companies are offering in terms of job content, I quickly decide that Nielsen is exactly what I want to do. Clearly it's a good decision as I will later reach my 13th year of employment (and counting).

Spring, 2007: Now 10 years into my tenure at Nielsen, I decide to quit my job to drive around the country attending college football games.

August, 2007: With my road trip plan already in place, I try desperately to get in touch with college football writers, editors, and lawyers about finding a "legitimate" writing gig to help open doors and make a name for myself along the way. The only person kind enough to give me a remotely positive reply is SI.com's Stewart Mandel who connects me to an editor of the now defunct "On Campus" section. Somehow I convince them to give me a freelance gig, writing a weekly column on tailgating. I can't believe this actually happens. I am less than a nobody whose only literary claim was comedic reviews of Arnold Schwarzenegger movies. Someone up there must like me - in addition to Stewart.

September 15, 2007: I have a colleague at Sportsillustrated.com named Dan who makes videos about tailgating. We happen to both be at the USC/Nebraska game in Lincoln, so our editor suggests we meet and hang out a bit. His cameraman is one of his best childhood friends. When I announce much later that I am moving to Argentina, Dan will mention, "Hey, remember my cameraman? He's moving there, too!" That cameraman turns out to be my roommate, Josh.

Spring, 2008: Even though I'd been gone from Nielsen for nearly a year, my old connections there ask me if I want to return to the company and move to Argentina to lead the new Buenos Aires Hub. Despite my flirtation with a permanent shift in my career, this offer presents an incredible challenge and opportunity. I don't need to think about it for very long and am soon packing everything I own. I fly to Buenos Aires on August 17th and Josh and I find the apartment about a month later.

Sometime in 2008: Living in California, Josh befriends a cool Mexican guy named Raul.

October 10th, 2008: At the urging of Raul, Josh hangs out with a guy named Arturo and his friends for the first time.

October 17th, 2008: My roommate Josh introduces me to Arturo. We meet up for some drinks at El Alamo and immediately hit it off. Arturo grew up in Argentina until he was seven years old and then his family moved to the US. Like me, he is on an expat assignment. He gleefully embraces what he refers to as the "Argentine lifestyle." His apartment is the epicenter of a lively group of people whose main objective is fun. He's the type of guy that immediately makes you feel like you've been friends for a long time. That's part of the Argentine lifestyle, too, actually. After leaving the bar somewhat early (probably around 5am), we go back to Arturo's to play chess and talk politics. I finally begin to understand the beauty of a cold Fernet con Coca.

October 18th, 2008: Arturo is having an Asado at his place. Belu has been taking a post-graduate class with Arturo and arrives with a friend. We talk for an hour, exclusively in Spanish at which time she announces that they are leaving. I boldly ask for her number and if "we can go out sometime," which doesn't translate very well into Spanish, so she thinks I just want to be friends. She gives me not just her number, but also the number of her amiga. I realize that I haven't played my cards perfectly, but I plan to call her right away.

Obviously, before all that, there's the usual confluence of my parents meeting, being attracted to one another, getting married, choosing to have kids, and of course Belu's having done the same. But all of us can say that and are therefore lucky to be here. Regardless, take a look at the above list, and you realize that Belu and I had pretty long odds of ever encountering one another, let alone falling in love. But all that history merely sets the table. We still had to eat the meal!

October 25th, 2008: Belu and I have our first date, but thanks to my aforementioned glitchy Spanish, she doesn't know if I thought of it that way until it begins. We go to Guido's and stuff ourselves full of pasta. Not ready for the date to end, I suggest we go for a walk. What was planned to be a simple lunch ended up a seven hour first date. When I come home, I tell Josh, "I'm going to be with that woman for a long time."

October 2008 - May 2009: With every date it keeps getting better. The more I learn about Belu, the more I know that she is absolutely the ideal person for me. We eat copious amounts of pizza and sushi and ice cream and especially lots more ice cream. She teaches me Spanish better than I could have learned taking classes. We travel in Argentina and Brazil. We learn to play to each others strengths, and find easy accord when we disagree.

July 2009: I take Belu back to Chicago for her to know my family, my city, and my friends. We eat everything. My mom tells her, "You're perfect!" Though by this point I don't even need Mom's support as I'm already 100% in agreement with her.

September 11, 2009 - May 2010: Belu and I move in together. We quickly learn how to live with each other, though it's pretty much effortless. I'm not as neat as Belu would like, but she has high standards. I strive for neaterness. We cook a lot more, but still eat a lot of ice cream. We travel to Argentina's South and its North.

May 23, 2010: Belu and I get engaged on my birthday. I'm not the least bit nervous. It all feels totally natural.

Some people talk about destiny or soul mates or preordained outcomes. I don't believe in that kind of cosmic stuff. But at the same time, it's pretty hard to see how we got to this point without at least thanking fate for putting us together. I was never sure about marriage, not for me anyway. But meeting Belu changed all that. I expected to come to Argentina, have a good time, and go on with my life. I think a lot about that first date, and what I said to Josh immediately afterward. Turns out I was underestimating the situation. And now it's official because...

November 15, 2010: We get married. Our wedding, the party, the church, all of that big stuff isn't until April. But for various reasons, we decide it would be best to move the civil ceremony forward. It's a beautiful day, and over 40 of our friends and family are in attendance. Our judge is the same one who conducted Diego Maradona's wedding and a real jokester. I expect it to feel like a dry run, but even though we have various steps remaining, nothing about it feels like a practice. In Argentina, the civil ceremony is always separate from the grand event, but usually only by a couple of days. In our case, we have four months left to get used to it before we take our case to God and my parents and everyone else who will be coming to town. Put simply, it's one of the best days of my life.

This past November I was home for Thanksgiving. I went back to my old office, took care of my currently vacant condo, spent a lot of time with my family, and saw some friends I hardly ever get to see. When I decided to move to Buenos Aires, it was supposed to be temporary. I was going to meet the objectives at the top of this posting. Going home reminded me that my mindset was awfully naïve about the impact the move would have on me. My life in Chicago was pretty darn good. I sacrificed a whole lot to come here. If it weren't for Belu, perhaps I would be doubting whether it was worth it. But I know that whatever I have given up, I've gained far more. No matter what went well or badly here, against very long odds, I found the love of my life. And for that I am feeling pretty proud of myself these days. But overwhelmingly, every day, I know I'm lucky. Maybe this was supposed to happen. Or maybe it wasn't and Belu and I made it happen. Either way, I'm the one who gets to be so happy about it.

On The Despedida (not mine)

2010-12-10T10:44:00.005-03:00

...or An Ode to Those Who Couldn't Stay

The first time I noticed, it was because of Katsu.

He was a quiet charmer. When I went to Monte Hermoso, it was clear that the entire Ultimate league adored the guy. When he asked about becoming the first "new addition" to Big Red, the reaction was unanimous: "He's exactly the kind of person we are looking for!" Katsu was a superb teammate, helping me keep my temper in check and always carrying with him positive spirit. What comes back to me nowadays are a lot of small moments in practice or games, or at the choripan afterwards. We talked about the different cultures around the world, how the Columbians complained about the Argentines being "cold." I contrasted that idea with the way Americans tend to talk about work and careers, but avoid more personal topics like family. Katsu noted, "Yeah, really personal in Japan is to talk about the weather." Everybody laughed. Once, after asking what we call love handles in English, he complimented me by saying mine were impressive. Katsu was just an excellent person to be around. And then quite suddenly he announced that his company was moving him to Peru.When someone is leaving for good, it is customary that they have a party called a despedida. The verb despedir means a lot of things - to emit, to fire an employee, to be ejected from a moving car... you get the picture. But in this case, we're talking about despedirse which means, simply, "to say goodbye." I suppose they're meant to celebrate the time you've spent with the person and hope that you'll cross paths again in the future. The thing is, Argentina is so far away from the rest of the world. And everyone is going back to so many different places, there will be no getting the band back together. So these parties are inherently bittersweet.

This is the life of an extranjero. You tend to meet other foreigners, and eventually, most of them leave. And once they're gone, you're left with the lament that you didn't spend enough time with them when they were here. That you could have talked about a lot more than the weather. Katsu's still in Peru, and I sincerely hope that we'll see him again soon.The first time I met Josh, he was wearing a Michigan shirt. We talked very briefly in our broken Spanish (his better than mine). He seemed like a good kid, and well, he had already won me over with the shirt and all. Upon arrival in Monte Hermoso, I really didn't know anyone, and the organization was pretty loose about where to bunk. So I just wandered into one of the apartments we had rented. I didn't realize I would be in an American-only house, but that's how things turned out. It was Josh and his girlfriend Julia, two Nicks, and me. I felt like the kid who had just moved to a new school and needed to make friends. Josh and Julia had recently graduated college and decided that instead of the standard issue job search, they would be taking their talents to South America. But neither was your typical American short-timer. They realized what an opportunity they had living in Argentina. They could have easily gone the banal route embracing the party scene and little else. We see those kinds of people come and go all the time. But they actively sought out an Argentine life, living with locals, selling their homemade baked goods at the San Telmo market to help make the rent. Over many months, Josh and I battled to see who could go longer without a haircut. He won. By a lot. Julia began with the thickest American accent I've ever heard and ended up fluent, able to communicate perfectly with anyone except the drunkest of hobos.It was amazing to me, being the old dude, to see them change and grow during their time here. They may not have realized it at the time, but it's clear to me that their Buenos Aires experience, though short in the great scheme of things will have a long-lasting impact on their lives. They avoided the beaten path, even after they chose the uncommon direction. Clearly the same goes for me and everybody else who's truly living here. It seemed so abrupt, but probably not to them, when they eventually decided it was time to return to the US and get on with it. But not before they meandered their way across South America. These kids know how to do it. Like Katsu, I wish I would have found more time for them. Now they're in Philadelphia, surely giving the city all it can handle.

Kyla was ready for something new. So she decided to come south, and brought her boyfriend Mike along. She's the best kind of extrovert - someone who is profoundly happy to see everyone all the time. When she hugs people she really means it. She seems too sweet to be making double-entendres, yet she drops hilarious ones at the best unexpected moments. I don't think I know anyone in the world who is a better fit for their profession than Kyla. She teaches kindergarten and even did so here in Buenos Aires - in Spanish. I got to see her around little kids a few times, and it was amazing to watch. She taught my friend's eight year old daughter how to play poker. Her positive spirit embodied the fledgling ultimate league perfectly. She always rooted for everybody.At first blush, Mike struck me as an incredibly nice guy and one of the best Ultimate players I'd ever seen. As I got to know him better, it was quickly clear that such a description sells him short. Mike and Kyla were two of the central figures in starting up a third team (a required element if you actually want to have a league). When they asked me if that sounded like a cool idea and if I wanted to join in, I was honored and excited. Thus Big Red was born almost exactly two years ago in an official meeting outside of the Recoleta Cemetary. If Kyla has the perfect profession for her, Mike Foster has the perfect apellido. Webster's defines foster as "affording, receiving, or sharing nurture or parental care though not related by blood or legal ties." And that describes exactly what he gave a league that was poised to grow from toddling to running all over the neighborhood.I've been playing Ultimate for a long time now, but I never thought I would become this good a player. We don't exactly hold rigorous practices in the Chicago rec league. I can't begin to explain how much Mike taught me about this game. Ever since my knee injury, I have had to accept certain physical limitations on the field, but with Mike's training, the rest of my game has surpassed my wildest expectations. Far more importantly, Mike embodies the Spirit of the Game like nobody I've ever met, so much so that it infects teammates and opponents alike.Thanks in great part to his efforts and presence, we not only have a thriving league, we sent a national team to compete in Colombia. He is a man who left an indelible mark here. The despedida for Mike and Kyla was especially hard. I think everybody knew it was the end of an era for all of us. It was an era that mattered, but more importantly, it was fun as hell.There are more despedidas all the time. Roxi's already gone. Steve's about to close the book on over a decade in Argentina. My old roommate Josh is about to head back to LA. A whole slew of Ultimate players are heading back to their respective colleges or other parts of the world.

Sometimes I have trouble understanding. Why would these people leave? But I arrived under very different circumstances. I had a job and a contract. Before too long, I found a wife. Don't get me wrong, I can't be angry at them for leaving. I just miss them.

Still I know that one day this will happen to me. That's going to be a million times harder. It will be like having a despedida for everyone - all my coworkers, the entire Ultimate league, friends, Belu's family - all at once. It's a good reminder to get busy aprovechando all the time I may have left.

Europe Trip, Part 2: What We Saw

2010-12-08T18:25:00.012-03:00

The last update went into detail about what Belu and I did in Europe. Today will be largely photos, the prettiest ones I could scrounge up. Click on any photo to embiggen, and I think most of 'em are worth it. Please enjoy!

Puerta del Sol in Madrid

Getting ready to start the day in Plaza Real, Madrid

Roman viaduct in Segovia

Main plaza in Segovia

Segovian street, approaching the viaduct

Cathedral in Segovia

View of the Alhambra in Toledo

Park Güell in Barcelona

A Barcelonan woman awaiting her meat

The interior of La Sagrada Familia in Barcelona

Gracia neighborhood in Barcelona

Our last night in Barcelona featured a better view than we expected, at least for a little while.

Belu in a bustling market in Barcelona

Talking politics at a cafe in the middle of the market

Feeding the birds outside of Notre Dame

Le Trocadero as viewed from the Eiffel Tower

Hospital des Invalides and a lot more of Paris

Street dedicated to Edward VII in Paris

Paris from the Sacré-Cœur

Another bird aficionado in Paris

Geneva

Playing chess in Geneva

The Grand Canal in Venice

Piazza San Marco in Venice

Venice

More Venice

A different view from the gondola

Venice was overrun by short, Asian ladies with sharp elbows and quick camera trigger fingers. But these two seemed nice.

A small canal in Venice

The Arno in Florence

A hazy day in Florence

The cat guarding the staircase to Piazza Michaelangelo

Some amazing clouds rolled through during a stroll through the gardens at Palazio Pitti

St. Peter's Basilica in Rome

Some old friends in Pincio Park.

The Coliseum

The Roman Forum with Monumento a Vittorio Emanuele II in the background

A large-scale take on the Roman Forum

All those travels sure made us tired. This guy, too, apparently. Sweet dreams, everyone!

Europe Trip, Part 1: What We Did

2010-11-14T14:17:00.021-03:00

At the end of September, Belu and I flew to Europe for three weeks of racing around. We hit seven cities with side trips to a couple others. Here are the photos of the places we saw. Click on any of them to see in larger format.

Belu in front of the Templo de Debob in Madrid

Fuente de Cibeles in Madrid

Parque del Buen Retiro in Madrid

Belu in the park. Madrid had only so much to offer. It's a big city and the country's capital, but two days is probably plenty, especially compared to what you have in the rest of Spain. So we took some side trips.

We spent a day in the old city of Toledo. It's like walking into a time machine. Here's Belu risking her life on one of the tiny streets. I say risking her life because if a car would have come, there would be no place to run for cover. The other city we visited was Segovia which we'll see in part 2...

Belu up in La Sagrada Familia in Barcelona

Me doing same. The Sagrada Familia will be done in 2030. We hope to come back then to see the finished product!

Belu in Park Güell

I took us on a ridiculous hike all around Park Güell. Unfortunately, it got more ridiculous when we found ourselves outside the park and nowhere near the entrance. Eventually, we finally found a way back in. Here we are resting for just a bit.

Belu with the famous salamander guy statue thingy.

We took a topless tour bus, which I figured wouldn't be a great idea. But Barcelona is the perfect city for this kind of thing. It's not so big, and there isn't too much traffic. Plus, you get cranky old ladies to give you dirty looks from across the aisle.

On a hill overlooking Plaza España

I got a kick out of the outdoor escalator.

Careful not to fall on your head.

I said careful!

That's more like it.

The ol' self-photo from Montjuic.

Belu at that other Arco de Triunfo (in Barcelona)

Eiffel Tower

La Torre Eiffel

Atop said tower

Notre Dame

Belu gettin' saucy with it.

We hiked up to the Sacre Coeur church which reveals a fantastic view of the city (more on that in Part 2).

Outside the Louvre. Because we didn't check things well, we had some bad luck with the museums in Paris. Like some other places in Paris, we came to the Louvre on the day it was closed.

On a mountaintop in Geneva, Switzerland, Belu makes another feline friend. This was one of about a dozen we met along the trip, but easily the most cariñoso.

There's not a ton of tourist stuff to do in Geneva, and we didn't have the best weather, either. But we took a ride on a little train, and this guy tagged along for a bit.

Leaving Geneva for Venice was an utter mess. We were supposed to have first class seats on a train that would get us there in one shot. Instead, we were shuttled in and out of four trains. On one of the longest trips, we had to stand, wedged in with suitcases against the bathroom door. People kept coming to use the bathroom and we had to tell them it was impossible to get the door open. You can imagine how crazy-haired Italian ladies reacted to this information. Fortunately, the others crammed in this tiny space with us happened to be an extremely easygoing and friendly Indian family on vacation. If we had been with a bunch of Italian or French tourists, surely the "mala onda" would have only exacerbated the disaster. But these people made the time pass quickly and kept our spirits high.

On the Ponte di Rialto in Venice

Belu on the same bridge. Venice was kind of crazy. We only spent one day there, and I think that was surely enough. It's totally overrun with tourists, with a new horde delivered by cruise ships daily. Everyone here is continually lost on the ancient streets, but at least we got our first tastes of authentic pizza and gelato. Valio la pena.

Took this photo at night without flash and a long exposure. This is alongside the Piazza San Marco in Venice.

Our gondoleer ducks his head as we cruise under the lowest bridge in town.

Speaking of pizza, this one was far from the best we had, yet still delicious. Plus, you have to appreciate the pizza eaten while walking around Venice.

At the Piazza di Santa Croce in Florence

Palazzo Lenzi in front of Chiesa di Ognissanti in Florence. It really shocked us how loud Florence was for being such a small city. Everywhere we went there was construction, motorcycles, and general hollering. On the last day, we just wanted to sit in a park and relax. We found a somewhat quiet spot, plopped down on a park bench, and decided it would do. 20 seconds later, two guys showed up with a lawn mower. It was like something out of a sitcom.

Belu at the Mirador in Piazza Michealangelo.

Me doing same. Many more Florence pictures in Part 2. We took in more famous museums and churches than we can possibly recall in Florence. The entire place is like one big museum. Perhaps foolishly (for the time we chose), we had to wait in line over two hours to see Michaelangelo's David. But the wait was well worth it. It has to be the most amazing piece of artwork I've laid eyes on. Unfortunately, no picture here because taking photos was banned.

Belu at the most crowded place in the world - aka the Vatican Museum.

In front of Fontana di Trevi

I'm the goofy guy up front.

In the park overlooking the Piazza del Popolo. By the time we reached Rome, we were pretty exhausted. Our goal was just to take it easy and relax. But of course there was so much to see, we just kept on walking all over the city.

The Roman Colosseum. Belu hands down the death sentence. Or is she sparing a life? Nobody seems to be able to answer this question definitively.

It became clear to use during our time in Italy that it is clearly the spiritual fatherland of Argentina. Many of Argentina's character traits, both good and bad, were born here. People talking loudly, crazy traffic, excellent coffee, nobody forming a proper line, arguing until long after the sun goes down, beautiful women, and many more... We owe a lot to Italy here, both credit and blame.

Monumento a Vittorio Emanuele II

One of our last moments on the trip after our last ridiculously long trek. The Coliseum on the right, the Roman Forum in the background, and Vittorio Emanuele II behind it. We saw as much as we could in those three weeks, and there remains a ton left to see. Come back soon for Part 2 where you'll see my attempts at artistic documentation of the physical world. Uhhh, yeah, fancy fotos...

Catching Up: June/July/August

2010-11-13T18:44:00.017-03:00

If I don't start catching up faster, I will never actually you know, catch up. So let's see if we can make up some ground here via a triple-play.

June
June was the month that Belu and I immediately began in earnest task of wedding-planning (something that of course still continues). But meanwhile I still found for the Buenos Aires Ultimate Frisbee playoffs. After going an entire year unscathed, Big Red's dominance had not continued throughout the regular season. Fortunately, we played well enough to end up in 3rd place and faced Discosur in the semis. But we had really played our worst in the weeks leading up to the tourney. Confidence was not high. But after a stirring call to action from Dani just moments before the game started, we began playing with a fire that we hadn't seen since the "old days." After scoring the first six points of the match, there was little Discosur could do to come back. It was the confidence boost we needed and suddenly there was esperanza for the championship game on Sunday morning.

Big Red - Solidaridad, Herman@s!

In the finals, we were set to play Aqua, the top seed who had just finished up a very strong regular season. We also knew that one of our strongest players wouldn't arrive until well into the game. But nonetheless, Big Red picked up from where we left off the day before, jumping out to a 4-0 lead. Los Tiburones from Aqua gradually clawed their way back into it, and tore off their own run of four straight points to start the second half. Big Red fought back, and took the lead again. Aqua scored two straight and was up by one when the clock ran out. But Big Red notched the equalizer, tying the game with one, winner-take-all point remaining. It wasn't the stuff of greatness from either team, but eventually (and perhaps fittingly), Chapy, captain of Aqua, ended up snatching the disc in the endzone for the season's final point.

This throw, ugly though it was, did connect with Roxi.

Aqua celebrates wresting the title from our hands. Felicitaciones, Tiburones!

We finished with mixed emotions, knowing that our errors left a lot of points on the field and with them, the game. At the same time, we played our strongest when the games mattered the most. Aqua had spent all season building a champion, and they deserved the victory. It was easily the most intense Ultimate game on record in Argentina. Many onlookers passing through Palermo Woods stayed to watch the end. We can only hope that the league continues to grow. With exciting games like this, it's likely.

Once again, a beautiful day and a fine-lookin' league

July:
July featured, well, a lot of work for work. So not so much fun stuff. We celebrated Belu's birthday (this time without surprises). We filled our apartment building's party room with friends, catered food, and a whole lotta karaoke. Singing went until the early morning. These were good times!

Cantantes!

Really getting into it. I don't even think the champagne had much to do with it.

In the local ultimate scene we started our first "hat" league with eight teams, and a great opportunity for beginners to give the sport a try. Very much like Chicago's Summer League. I was a Vaquita de San Antonio (Ladybug). Unfortunately, I missed a number of the games, but the idea was great and we will surely follow up with more of these.

Just a reminder of our gorgeous view. The photos' from July, so it qualifies here.

August
August followed July as one of the busiest months I've ever had at work. At times I was doing three jobs at once (four if you count wedding planning). It left little time for enjoying life in Buenos Aires. So there is unfortunately very little to tell of local adventures.

I did go back to Baroda, India for work again, this time for two and a half weeks. I'm working closely with a smaller team there, and on this trip I got to become much more connected to the local culture than on the last one (and luckily there were no visa shenanigans this time). I ate a ton of Indian food, something I never get to do here in Argentina. It was a nice throwback to my vegetarian days as I only ate meat on one occasion throughout the trip. Yet I went home stuffed every night.

All that overeating can really take its toll, but my compañeros turned me on to a local remedy called paan. Paan is betel leaf wrapped around, well, I don't even really know what was in there. It reminded me of yerba, but you would never actually eat yerba directly. They come with various varieties - chocolate, frozen fruit, and who knows what else. You throw the whole thing in your mouth like a tobacco chaw, and then slowly let it disintegrate without chewing. I don't know if it actually helps with the digestion or not, but it definitely tasted good. After one or two of these, I was craving them every night. And fortunately, every night I was able to have one.

The name of this joint is Rich Pan. I don't know if this guy's name is Rich, but we should, for now, just call him the Pan Man.

I was so stuffed after a vegetarian buffet, my biggest concern was how I was going to fit anything else in my stomach...

...but it doesn't really go in your stomach since the idea is to let it dissolve in your mouth. Still, this is pretty darn big. I was nearly drooling.

The other highlight was a trip to a local palace which I had heretofore not known about in Baroda. So I leave you this time with various photos of the Laxmi Vilas Palace originally built by the Maharaja Sayajirao Gaekwad III. (The photos don't really do it justice. It was a rainy day and they would not let me take pictures inside. Trust me, though, this is a gorgeous place, if a bit antiquated).

It was so humid, it took about 20 minutes for my camera to stop fogging over once we left the air-conditioned car. This was the first "good" picture.

Moses

The palace is surrounded by a nice golf course. Perhaps something to try on the next visit.

Other writing from J/J/A:
Top 50 Albums - Don Caballero: World Class Listening Problem
Top 50 Albums - Mission of Burma: The Obliterati
Fishbone @ Teatro Colegiales
Top 50 Albums - Amy Winehouse: Back to Black
Top 50 Albums - The Lawrence Arms: Oh! Calcutta!

Crazy for the Copa
The Well Worn Practice of Self-Delusion
FREEDOM IS SLAVERY

Catching Up: May

2010-10-31T16:22:00.011-03:00

Geeez, I'm still so, so far behind in the blogging here. So we'll go though May as quickly as humanly possible. That will be difficult because there was much going on...

At the outset of May, we were lucky to have Emily and Stewart visiting from NYC. The first weekend they were in town, however, featured a great tragedy. I'm not sure if I have mentioned it on this blog before, but I have declared my futbol allegiance here in Argentina. Soy hincha del Club Atletico Independiente. That happens to be the same team as Belu. As Stewart is a sports journalist, we decided we should definitely take him and Emily to a soccer match. It just so happened that we were nearing the end of the season, and there was a hugely important game between our team and Argentinos Juniors. Argentinos were in first place, with Independiente in third. With only one remaining game, the winner would have an excellent chance of taking the title. So we decided to go. Independiente was easily ruling the day when the wheels fell off. Despite a 3-1 lead with 20 minutes go go, the Red Devils gave up three goals and lost the match with just seconds remaining. It was a remarkable collapse. We're talking a Dough Flutie Hail Mary times three with the championship in the balance. Stewart and Emily got to witness a treat, but Belu and I (especially Belu) were not happy campers.

Utterly painful.

But we eventually got over it thanks to some thick steak and sweet dulce de leche. At this point, we have the "hosting" thing down, so we were able to show our guests the best parilla, tango show, and ice cream parlors. Everything above that is gravy, but we had plenty of gravy, too. On the second weekend, we took an excursion to Estancia La Juanita in Chascomús. This was my first trip to an Argentine Estancia, and though it was a bit cold, the food was delicious, the air clean, and the surroundings peaceful. We usually only get one of those three in the city.

Stewart gives Mate a go. Emily looks on approvingly.

We made up our own names for these dogs. But I can't remember them now. The white one should have been called "crazy."

We had to keep the fire in the room burning all night. This meant sleep came in three hour stretches. It also meant we came home smelling like barbecue. Of course, if you gotta smell like something, there are worse odors out there.

We capped off a great visit with another trip to Tea Connection, I feared a bit for Stewart's return to New York as he became borderline dependent during the week - it just means he has to come back. By all accounts he is surviving just fine, but certainly misses the "Come to Papa."

After their departure, I began putting things in place for the big event in May. Not my 35th birthday, but it took place on the same day. For a long time, I felt that Belu was not just the right girl for me, but the best thing in my life. So I was ready to take the plunge. I knew I was dating my future wife, and it was time to let her know, too. With Emily's help, I was able to get the right ring here without the risk of getting scammed by an Argentine jeweler. The big problem would be the surprise. It wasn't like we hadn't discussed the future. Heck, we'd even discussed the type of ring.

It's not very often that we get dressed up to go out for a fancy dinner. So I decided my birthday would be perfect cover. My plan was set to have a drink at the very fancy Bibliotheque Bar in the Sofitel, make my proposal, and then follow with dinner. Unfortunately, when it was time to go, the rain was coming down in sheets. Belu said, "Well, we can skip the bar and just wait for rain to stop." I think I said, "No." We snagged a taxi and arrived relatively dry. But because of the weather the Bibliotheque was full of old, rich hotel guests who were afraid to brave the conditions. So instead we sat in the adjoining Cafe Arroyo. It's not quite as elegant, and there were people in there working on laptops and having casual conversations. But I couldn't deviate from the plan...

I waited until our drinks had arrived to ensure that there would be no interruption from the waiter. I told Belu what she means to me, and how happy I am with her. More importantly, we talked about the future and how many great things we have awaiting us. At this point I probably went off script a bit. I'm not sure if I ended up asking her the question directly or not. But once she saw the ring, she was all smiles.

A few minutes after Belu said "Yes!"

Belu said, "I want to call my Mom." The other surprise was that I had already called to tell her my intentions (and ask her permission), and that she would be meeting us for dinner. I think I wasn't the only one whose face hurt from smiling all night. So my life took a very big step forward. I don't feel old for 35, but I feel more mature. More importantly, I'm ready to begin a new chapter. Pretty soon it will become official.

Wedding plans are rolling along and you can read all about them here.

Other writing from May:
A to B Back and Forth Movie Review: Iron Man II
Top 50 Albums #24: The Flaming Lips - Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots

Catching Up: March/April

2010-09-05T06:51:00.107-03:00

Once again I find myself behind in catching up, let alone blogging along. So once again, it's mostly pictures and captions today. On Easter weekend, Belu and I headed north to Misiones to visit the famous Iguazu Falls. Despite being ridiculously crowded, it did not disappoint. Here are the photos! Click on any to embiggen (many are worth the click!).

The day we arrived, our first excursion was on the Rios Paraná, and Iguazu, the rivers that divide Argentina, Paraguay, and Brazil. An easygoing journey with really lousy pizza.

The only real destination of this river journey was pretty darn heartbreaking. The boat stopped near a sandy embankment and some natives played primitive music and danced. It was a meager show for the tourists. Belu and I would have rather just not seen it. All these people were watching and taking pictures, and clapped politely when it was over, but the whole thing just had a freakshow feel to it.

At least the ride home was peaceful. We talked with one of the boat's workers as the sun set behind the trees. Well, Belu talked to him. I did my best to understand his accent.

OK, enough river cruises. THIS is what we came for. The view from above La Garganta del Diablo (Devil's Throat).

Me and Bels above La Garganta. No water pours on you here, but everyone gets a fresh shower every time the wind picks up.

So we jumped in a boat and cruised around the river. But this time we had a real purpose. We're going to follow that boat in front of us - right under the falls.

The boat after ours. I don't believe the boat actually went directly under the water flow, but I have never been more wet in my life - even that Stevie Wonder concert in Detroit was a desert compared to this.

Belu - post shower.

And me, post shower. People have asked me if this picture is fake. It is not.

Another place to get soaked. These cascades have names but I can't remember them now. I think it's like the three sisters or something.

When standing above, the water races calmly by, and it seems like it would be a good idea to jump in and go for a ride. But the deafening noise is a reminder that there are violent collisions below.

The place couldn't have been more crowded. Finding space to get a picture of just us was nearly impossible. No wonder we look so happy!

There were gorgeous butterflies everywhere. Many were freaking huge. We named this guy Ralphie. He did us the favor of sitting still for a bit.

I thought that Ralphie was chewing on a piece of grass or something. But now I believe that green line reaching from his mouth is his butterfly tongue. He must have been digging for critters.

The photo doesn't do justice to how cool these birds were. They looked like cartoons.

Speaking of cartoons, these Coati come right up to you hoping to be fed. They are practically domesticated by now. Also seen, enormous spiders, toucans, walking sticks, and various other critters.

Can you see it? There's a butterfly in the sunlight just over this waterfall. Give it a click. I love how he is just fluttering along, meanwhile this water is raging..

They say that the best falls are on the Argentine side, but Brazil has the best views. Obviously the lady here is gorgeous (she's an Argentine on the Brazilian side -not sure how the math works on that one). They're not lying about the view. We could have stood here all day.

Just one small part of the view from Brazil.

Because it was Semana Santa, the whole world was here on vacation. Getting through customs to get to the Brazil side took us well over an hour. That unfortunately really cut into our time in the park. But even with that headache, the journey was well worth it.

Now on the other side, the Devil's Throat is behind this wall of water.

We had to race through this part. Kind of a bummer.

On the way back, we stopped in Iguazu Forest for some adventure. Here, Belu steels herself for some rappelling. After that and some decent hiking, we finished with a series of zip-lines strung between trees 70 feet off the ground. That was unnerving AND a blast.

Belu, taking the express elevator and only a couple nicks to show for it.

Posing at tres fronteras.

Tres fronteras. On the left you see Paraguay, on the right Brazil, and under your feet, Argentina (hence the white and sky-blue obelisk). We had an excellent dinner just around the corner from here as the sun set on our trip. Then it was off to the airport to wait for a severely delayed flight. This may be the last time we go away on Semana Santa as it's always insane. When you move to Argentina, people ask if you are going to visit Iguazu. Obviously it was on the list of "to dos." Waiting to have the Brazilian visa was a good idea. We will surely be going back, just not the busiest week of the year.

Other writings from March/April:
Top 50 Albums - #25 Tapes 'n Tapes
Top 50 Albums - #26 Kings of Leon
Top 50 Albums - #27 Idlewild
Top 50 Albums - #28 Common
Top 50 Albums - #29 The Futureheads
Top 50 Albums - #30 The Black Keys
Top 50 Albums - #31 Wolfmother

Catching Up: February

2010-08-03T08:33:00.004-03:00

Time was of the essence. I told the cabbie to step on it while I changed into more presentable clothes in his backseat. I almost forgot how to tell him this because it was the first English-speaking taxi driver I´d dealt with in a very long time. Wait. Let me back up and start from the beginning.

I never envisioned my first trip to India would be so fraught with bother. Due to recently added rules, I was not able to obtain a visa in Argentina. The only way for me to make this trip happen was to fly to Chicago and get a visa there. Time was incredibly tight. I packed in 20 minutes after work on Wednesday, scooted out to Ezeiza, and boarded a flight to Miami. I arrived in Chicago on Thursday morning at 10am. If I couldn´t make it to the Indian Consulate by 11:00, it would have been impossible to get the visa in time.

I wasn't expecting to see camels, but there were a whole lot of 'em. The photo I am missing is of cows wandering the streets, acting like they own the place, which they kind of do.

The cabbie wasn't in the mood to chat, but he did me the favor of zooming downtown. Fate or luck or Jebus also did me the solid of presenting a Kennedy Expressway generally free of traffic. Long story short, I finished my submission with 20 minutes to spare and time to do some work in the Chicago office. By 6pm, I was collecting my freshly updated passport and was soon on my way to my parents´ house for the evening.

A relaxing visit with the family passed all too briefly before I was back in the sky. Light snowfall delayed the Chicago to Dallas connection, but I made it in time. As luck would have it, Belu was in Dallas working and we returned to Ezeiza together. We shared a relaxing breakfast Saturday morning at an airport café before I started the security process all over again. From Buenos Aires, I flew to Sao Paulo where a torrential downpour delayed us for two hours. Finally, we departed for London. What was originally a nearly 3 hour transfer was now compressed to 40 minutes. Despite having just spent three of four nights on airplanes, I found the strength to OJ Simpson my way through Heathrow and barely make the flight to Mumbai. After three hours sleep in a dingy airport hotel, my colleagues and I made our last connection, Baroda. Of course, the suitcase wasn´t so fortunate and was "probably somewhere in London." Needless to say, I arrived exhausted, but I can certainly declare that Ryan Bingham ain't got shit on me. Seriously, I´m the lunatic who drove all over the US for four months, but I never want to do anything like this again. Four out of five nights on the move is simply too much.

Traffic was only 25% more insane than in Buenos Aires, but I suppose we're talking about a pretty high baseline. The major difference - drivers are expected to honk to indicate where they are. All the trucks have this same phrase written on them, and they mean it (the "please" too).

I was in India for a very busy week of work, which you don´t care about. Unfortunately that left little time for sight-seeing. Coworkers who had been there previously warned me that the traffic was bonkers and the level of poverty was shocking. But I have to say that neither really put me off. I suppose after trips to Brazil and enough traveling around Argentina, I am prepared for such experiences. Many people had told me that I would be greeted with a level of poverty far beyond what exists in South America. Yes, it was another level, but the fact that I took it so easily in stride indicates that things aren't so different. After all, the Indians take it in stride. I suppose I´m Argentine enough (but that's a topic for another day).

From the gondola on the way to the base of the mountain.

People often ask what I miss in Buenos Aires. While family and friends clearly top the list, the only tangible yearning I have is for the wide variety of food we take for granted in the US. The most glaring hole in Argentine cuisine could be summed as "anything spicy." I admit I could do a better job seeking out more ethnic joints, but I have tried the Indian food and it simply doesn´t measure up. Near the end of the week in Baroda, our hosts questioned whether we had gotten tired of Indian food. Hells no. I was aprovechando. I never came across old my favorite mattar paneer, but what started with a dosa lunch on the first day continued throughout the week was pure heaven for me and my palate. I can´t begin to name all the dishes we had, but it was all fantastic. And I´m proud to report that my time in Argentina has not weakened my ability to take on the heat. Every runny nose was well worth it. Any prior concerns about food cleanliness or other digestive issues were irrelevant for me (though my friend Madison battled through a nasty case of the Delhi Belly on our last day).

This pond was way up near the top of the mountain atop which sits the temple. Give it a click and you can see on that little staircase there are some people either washing clothes or at the very least going into the water.

While he suffered back at the hotel, the rest of us visited a temple dedicated to Kali. This was an experience unlike any I´d had before. Atop a small mountain, the temple is relatively small and simple. Shoes are not allowed, and the entrance area is more crowded than a mosh pit, with people pressed up against one another. But there was not even a hint of pushing, and the throng moved peacefully in order. Most were carrying coconuts or other treats so the food can be blessed and then shared with family or coworkers.

OK, so I did get a cow picture. This was in the area surrounding the temple. She was all dressed up with nowhere to go. I'm not sure I was supposed to be snapping this photo without a donation, but there was nobody nearby and I had no local currency on me.

There were various obvious rituals, but I was unsure if it was more insulting for me to foolishly participate in them or to ignore them as a curious tourist. My friend Stephane and I split the difference, doing our best to go through the motions without drawing too much attention to ourselves. But that didn´t stop us from receiving funny looks. Many locals eyed us with curious stares. This wasn´t the Taj Mahal, so nobody was expecting our kind. Our hosts told us later that it was likely that outside of movies and TV, many of the people visiting Kali's temple had never seen a white person. I found the attention, well, cool. A few of the bolder ones asked us where we were from. The answer of “France, Germany, England, and the United States (by way of Argentina)” did nothing to quell the curiosity.

An American, an Englishman, a Frenchman, an Indian and a German walk into Kali's temple... Oh, you've heard that one already?

That day at the temple is what I will take away most from this journey (well, that and a heckuva lot of frequent flyer miles). There was a certain tranquility to the people we encountered, a tranquility that matches my professional experiences with the Baroda team as well. How the crowd of people that felt so comfortable pressed against each other is something I won´t soon forget. I know there´s a lot I can learn from them. To journey from BA-to-Chicago-to-BA-to-London-to-India and only have one day to explore is really a shame. But since I have a visa, it just means that I get to come back again. My taste buds only one small part of me that is eagerly looking forward to it. I saddled up for the 40+hour trip back to Buenos Aires with no doubt that all the hassle was worth it.

Also: look! monkeys!

Other writing from February:
A to B Back and Forth: Avatar
Best Foreign Oscar Predictions (I was right!)
Top 50 Albums #33 - Bad Religion - The New America
Death of a Terminator
Top 50 Albums #32 - Juno - A Future Lived in Past Tense
A to B Back and Forth: Sherlock Holmes

What's for dinner?

2010-07-25T18:48:00.002-03:00

This is everyone's current favorite ad here in Argentina. I thought I would share it with you because it's just too to be missed.

For those who don't speak Castellano, here's the primer:

"Hoy hice arroz" = Today I made rice
"Lo hice para vos" = I made it for you

Enjoy responsibly!

Catching Up: January, Part II

2010-06-24T20:34:00.002-03:00

As I am sure you are now accustomed, I'm going with mainly photographs for the time being. I promise, though, that February will have more words than pictures. Well, I dunno. Maybe you like the pictures better.

When we last left our heroes, they were traipsing across glaciers in the Patagonia. From there, we headed even further south, to Tierra del Fuego. Our home base for the last three days of the trip was the town of Ushuaia, the southernmost city in the world. Once again, click on any photo to embiggen. Here's what happened!

Old school photoshop. Just kidding. This was taken at the jail in Ushuaia. Originally there were nothing but natives, but the white folk, smallpox, and measles made quick work of that. Of course, given the harsh winter, nobody wanted to settle here, so the government decided the best thing would be to build a prison. Repeat offenders and harsh criminals were sent here. More importantly, people arrived to work at the prison, which built up the town at the southern end of the country.

We took the "Train at the end of the world," which had some nice sights along the way, but mostly got us from here to there. This picture was taken at the only (brief) stop along the way. Incidentally, the prisoners were the ones who built the railroad to begin with, often times in extremely harsh winter conditions.

The Wild Horses at the End of the World

The entire area is surrounded by the end of the Andes. This is the only part of Argentina on the other side of the mountain range. That led to spectacular views like this one.

Pan de Indio - literally translates to Indian Bread because the natives used to eat it. It's a fungus that attacks trees. The forest was loaded with them. Every few minutes we heard a "thunk", as another Pan de Indio fell from its perch. Not wanting to miss an opportunity, we tasted them. My two word summary of the flavor: malty watery.

Andrew and Belu at the End of the World!

The stream at the End of the World!

The entire city of Ushuaia. I know it's hard to see. Click to make it bigger. This would be an amazing place to live.* Just so peaceful and picturesque. (*only in the summer because in winter it would just be dark and cold all the time)

We ate loads of fresh crab. Heavenly.

Then we played with our food.

You can't tell by the picture, but these sea lions are hanging out on a big rock way out in the middle of the Beagle Channel.

I think I took about 23 pictures of Les Eclaireurs Lighthouse. This is the one you get to see.

The Birds at the end of the world!

I promised you penguins...

...and so penguins you have! Unfortunately, we didn't book the tour where you can get off the boat and walk around with them. We're not sure if that's even legal, but some lucky tourists got the up-close-and-personal view.

Lago Escondido. Well named because it pretty much just appeared out of nowhere.

An older couple on their dream vacation...

...and a younger one with many more in their future.

Belu shows off the latest in trans-lago fashion.

Natalia shows off... well, it's basically the same concept.

...which leaves Brad at a loss for creativity.

Note the Austrians on the left. They made fine companions.

What are these people laughing at?

This guy! A crazy dog who repeatedly jumped into the lake before returning to shed water on all nearby. We named him Blackie because we weren't feeling creative. But he was hilarious.

On board with Luciana, our fantastic tour guide. After taking this outboard across the lake, we hiked through the woods, saw a beaver dam (but no damn beavers). The next phase was canoeing on Lago Escondido. That would have been a blast except it rained the entire time - hard. But it made the asado that followed all the more fulfilling.

We finished up the tour at the serene Lago Fagnano.

Across the lake, you can see Chile (which boasts the southernmost village in the world, but don't tell the Argentines that!).

No, we didn't leave Ushuaia this way, but wouldn't it have been cool if we did?

I don't think I've given enough words to the sublime town of Ushuaia. While El Calafate boasted natural wonder, this was a place where you really wanted to be. Sure, there were still plenty of people looking to take money from the tourists, but you can see that there is a real town with real life here. I don't know if I'll return to El Calafate. Someone will probably want to see the glaciers, definitely a sight to behold. So I'll surely go along. But if I were to pick a summer home in the south of Argentina, there's no question that Ushuaia is the clear front-runner. Of course, I still have to check out Bariloche and Rio Negro and probably sixteen other places. Good thing this country is so wonderfully huge.

Catching Up: January, Part I

2010-06-20T12:46:00.002-03:00

Just like last month's update, we're going with mostly pictures on this one. Also just like last month's update, Brad and Natalia were along for all the rides, but luckily Belu was able to escape the city with us, too. We sent ourselves down south to The Patagonia. Today's photos are all from El Calafate, where one can find various glaciers well worth one's time. Once again, click on any picture to embiggen. Check it on out!

The view from outside our hotel. This is Lago Argentino, the largest lake in the country. It may not look big, but it's got fingers and inlets all over the place.

The glacier Perito Moreno. It is 94 square miles of ice. Photos cannot display how impressive this was. Look at how small the people on the balcony are.

More Moreno. Note that the boat you see is pretty darn big.

The fearsome foursome! That may be a whole lot of ice, but it's summertime and we're not cold.

This one deserves a click

Belu is excited to get her crampon on...

...while I'm apparently nervous.

Since we were wearing crampons, we figured we would follow these people and hike on top of the ice.

Brad and Natalia, ready for the climb.

The crampons help keep your footing, but it's good to hang on to someone special, too.

Brad crossing a small mound of ice.

It was white everywhere, except for the blue patches where water was movin', and the black specks of earth that are trapped within the ice.

We had ganas to climb this sucker, but they told us to stick with the guides.

And after the hike was over? Some Famous Grouse with the world's freshest ice.

A few last moments to take it all in before we got back in the boat to head back to the hotel.

The next day was a boat tour of the glaciers. Brad and I found some time to clown it up a bit.

First up was a tour of small icebergs strewn all about Lago Argentino. this was one of the biggest we saw. That hole on the left? You could drive a golf cart through it.

We had gorgeous weather to match the gorgeous gente!

Pieces of the glaciers periodically fall into the lake. This is accompanied by a tremendous crash that breaks the serene silence. When this happens it is not uncommon for the chunky, drunken Brazillian guy on board to shout and point. That was also not so serene.

Belu waves goodbye as we leave Perito Moreno behind.

This is a picture of the sun setting behind a small hill. Time of photo: 11:15 PM.

And that finishes up our first stop on the trip south. Will be back with an update as soon as I can about with the rest. I promise you penguins!

Other writing from January:
A to B Back and Forth Review: (500) Days of Summer
Top 50 Albums #37: Crooked Fingers - Red Devil Dawn
Top 50 Albums #36: Wolf Parade - At Mount Zoomer
Top 50 Albums #35: Rodrigo y Gabriela - Rodrigo y Gabriela
Top 50 Albums - #34: Franz Ferdinand - Franz Ferdinand

Catching Up: December

2010-05-30T13:40:00.003-03:00

OK, so I'm still six months behind on this whole catch-up thing and there are so many more things I want to get to! so I am going to have a bit less commentary for the remaining months and let the photos do the talking whenever possible.

December was another very busy month at work, the end of the year is always re ocupado for us. But more exciting than that was that Brad came in from Amsterdam for an extended visit. Though we failed to take in a movie together, Belu and I took him to all the hotspots we could. We made it to Guido's, visited Josh and Julia selling their home-baked goods on the street in San Telmo, walked the ecological preserve, forced Brad to try Fernet (went poorly) and medialunas (went very well), and even found time to use the tennis court here.

I think Brad liked these facturas even more than his bigote.

Belu and I hosted our first Christmas dinner, and it came off without a hitch. Vitel toné, matambre de pollo, ensalada rusa, two other types of salads, an a cake that was basically a gigantic almendrado filled our bellies. We followed that a week later with a New Years Eve party. It is an Argentine tradition to light fireworks at midnight at both Christmas Eve and New Year's Eve. Living on the 35th floor, we got an amazing view of the spectacle. There's no government-sponsored display, but with everyone all over town lighting their fuegos artificiales, it looked like the whole city was exploding for an entire hour. Unfortunately, the photos don't remotely do it justice. I'm just saying that you should try and come to visit us next year like Brad did. I've never seen anything like it.

Did I mention that it's summer in December here?

The day after Christmas, Natalia arrived and we immediately scooted off to Mendoza, the city at the heart of Argentine wine country. Here's what happened. Click on any photo to embiggen.

Brad, mustache free, at the reservoir in Parque San Martin in Mendoza city.

A gigantic monument to General San Martin atop the park named after him.

The view from said top of said park.

We took a bus tour up into the Andes mountains. This was the first stop. Truly amazing view, and like I said, the photos simply don't do it justice.

It seems like it could be Colorado at first glance, no? But then the mountains are the wrong shape. These are of course the Andes (mine!).

Brad and Natalia on top of the world. Note that Natalia and I had our cameras strapped to us pretty much the whole time. Looking through the photos it is very hard to find one of either of us without them. Just be thankful that I'm only showing a handful of the shots taken. Between us over two weeks we took around 2000 shots.

I mean, look at this view!. And we were just getting started.

In the background, you can see Cerro Aconcagua, the highest peak in the Americas. (It's the snow-capped one on the left.) You can also see other people in our tour group, but I think the camera frightened the tour guide a bit, so I can't complain.

This was as high as we went, very close to the Chilean border. Catching breath up there was extremely difficult, even for Brad who is in better shape than anyone I know. Is it me or does the sky seem closer?

Note the little stone shelter all by its lonesome up there. Behind where I took this picture, there was a little tiny group of buildings, but they weren't quite so lonesome because there were a few of them.

Puente del Inca. A natural wonder. The rocks get their color due to an underground spring.

There was once a spa housed under the natural bridge. Visitors would arrive by train, walk across the bridge and stay in a lodge/hotel on the other side of the river. It was in operation from 1917 until 1965 when heavy snow caused the collapse of the roof of a chapel on the site.

If only this were a river of chocolate milk (like it looks), I never would have left!

A whole lot of wine in those barrels.

Brad got his turn holding the cameras, too. I can't remember what cracked him up here, but I promise it was something hilarious.

In the Bonfanti tasting room

The tour guide at Bonfanti. One of the most boring, information-laden tours of my life. Seriously, this guy went on forever and ever. Worse, the Brazilian couple (not pictured) that asked inane questions like, "How many glasses of wine should you have with dinner?" At the end, we only got two feeble tastes. But we later figured out how to manage this stuff better. More in a second...

Brad atop his friend, Pancho, a horse lacking the desire to listen to Brad's directions.

Brad, Natalia, and I ready to head back to HQ. We opted for the four-hour cabalgata instead of two hours, and it paid off in that it was just us, the tour guide, two crazy dogs, and the mountains. Note, the concierge at our hotel called it "horsing."

"Ayyyyy." (No, that's not my hat, but I want one.)

The view from Bodega Septima's terrace, where we ate lunch on our last day. Lunch that included all-the-wine-you-care-to-drink. Both wine and food were excellent, and it was a relaxing and beautiful location to enjoy the afternoon. From there we went to Ruca Malen, from which remembering details are somewhat for obvious reasons.

All in all a fantastic trip for the three of us. Unfortunately, Belu didn't have enough vacation time to join in the fun. So all translation duties were left to me. On the phone one night, I mentioned that I was surprised how much Spanish I already knew. I told her (in Spanish), "I don't know exactly when someone is supposed to declare victory on such things, but I think I'm ready to say that I'm fluent." Belu kindly responded, "OK, but we don't really say it like that." So maybe I was jumping the gun. Fortunately, in January we traveled again and got to bring Belu with us. Y'all come back soon for the details (and many photos) on the next edition of "Catching Up."

Other writing from December:
Top 50 Albums #39: Hot Water Music - Caution
Top 50 Albums #38: The National - Boxer

Catching Up: November, Part II

2010-05-25T22:03:00.001-03:00

The taxista had dropped me off in the wrong place. I found myself standing alone on a dark Colombian street with no idea where I needed to go. I was tired after a long night of traveling and had no local currency, but my spirits were high nonetheless. I was looking for Sergio's house, a friend I hadn't yet made. My phone didn't work and since I had my bags with me, I felt like a blatant candidate for robbery...

As promised in Part I, the month was loaded with Ultimate. The first half of the month delivered success in the face of more stringent challenges than we'd seen before in the Buenos Aires league, but the second half would prove to be at a different level in every possible way. Thanks to a small group of ambitious and dedicated players, the local community decided to arm a national team to compete in the Torneo Eterna Primavera in Medellin, Colombia. I was deemed a capable enough player (probably only barely), and fortunately could spare the time (again, barely) and expense. So off I went with Team Truco to a country entirely new for me.

The arrival was a bit chaotic, but my friend Emi (an Argentine who had visited Medellin previously) took care of me, and sent me well on my way to Sergio's. I eventually figured out the cabbie's mistake and before too long I had arrived, tired and anxious about the following day's big games.

The team arrived to the field early eager to make our home country proud. But we were not prepared for this level of play. Some on the team (especially the Colombian natives) knew what was coming. Some, like me for instance, did not. From the first point I realized that virtually every matchup was going to be against someone younger, faster, more experienced, and with a much bigger tank of gas. At least most of 'em weren't very tall. My real Ultimate background was the Chicago Simpsons Division, a great league in so many ways, but not exactly championship-caliber competition.

Team Argentina "before"

In our first game, against Colombian team Ki.ê, we got stomped pretty bad. We simply couldn't hang. They were more fit, and had been playing together for years. We were a band of dudes from the Buenos Aires league and a few more like Sergio who had visited and were game enough to don the celeste y blanco. There wasn't much time for us to get it together. But improve we did. With each passing game, we congealed more as a team, figured out our roles and worked together. I must admit that I remained intimidated. Those Buenos Aires finals seemed like ages ago. But I too looked for ways to bring my game to a higher level - running faster, making better cuts, and clamping down better defensively. I still wasn't keeping up, but in some ways I was playing better than I ever had in my life.

Let me digress from the play-by-play for a few important comments. Firstly, no trip to Colombia is complete without indulging in the amazing variety and quality of fresh fruit available. There were old favorites like pineapple, mango, and papaya, but also a whole slew of new favorites whose names I can't recall, but whose flavor I will savor forever. Even though I was probably playing less than 25% of the points, after each game I was completely spent. It was that intense. But at every park, there were people selling salpicón de frutas. Quite simply the most satisfying collection of sweet fruit complimented by a hollow cookie and evaporated milk. Downing one of those was all the refueling I needed.

Some exotic fruit whose name I can't recall, but the flavor was exquisite

Even more impressive than the produce was the onda of the Medellin residents. Sergio was first and foremost for me, going above and beyond any reasonable expectations one could have of a host. But everywhere I went, I was hit with friendliness. It was truly amazing. The parking attendant at a grocery store chatted with us for ten minutes. The security guard at the airport talked about Ultimate with us for 15 minutes - all the while checking through our bags for drugs and weapons. One of the things I really dig about Argentina is how much more friendly and open the people are than in the US. My Colombian friends, however, have always called the Argentines cold. Now I see why. As I said, it left a great impression on me.

Martin rolled up in the banner for some good reason

Back to the game. Day 2 featured the morning kicking off against Seattle Sockeye, one of the top Ultimate teams in the world. We really had no business being on the same field as them, but we gave it our best, losing 15-3. And I think we would all say that we left pretty much satisfied with the 3. These guys were not just a phenomenal team, they were superb ambassadors for the game, playing with top notch spirit.

Emi snatches the disc for a score (photo by Mike)

Back in part I, I said that "on days when you're off your game, a frustrating round of golf seems soothing comparison." My dark moment came in the middle game of the tournament. We seemed to have a lift, picking things up, working as a team more. After finding ourselves down early in the contest, we hung tough and got on a roll, eventually cutting the deficit to 12-9 late in the game. After receiving the disc on a great continue cut, Alan found me bolting downfield on a continue cut of my own. I reeled in the disc about one meter from the endzone. Dani, my Big Red teammate, zoomed to the goal totally by himself. And I... I... I still don't exactly know what happened. I've always been good in the clutch. But this time, well, I can definitely say that my brain was turned off as I threw a backhand to the right side of the endzone well out of Dani's reach. At this level of play, you can't give up possession and you can't throw away sure points. I could have chucked a blade to him and we would have scored. This was easily the worst pecho frio moment of my life. We ended up losing the point and with it, the game. I commented to some teammates, "I'm going to have to live with that throw for a very long time." Here we are six months later, and I still haven't shaken the moment. Would we have won if I had delivered the disc? I don't know, but we would have had a chance... My confidence was ruptured after that, and I didn't really get on track in any of the remaining games.

I did catch this one for a score after bobbling it. So I wasn't 100% broken after the earlier gaffe. But perhaps I shouldn't have bobbled it. And I most definitely shouldn't have spiked the disc afterwards. (Photo by Mike)

Brief moments often loom large in Ultimate, but it's the errors that tend to have the biggest impact. The higher level you go, the less forgiving the game is. A misplayed cross-breeze, or a too-quick decision can make the final difference between winning and losing. In some ways, the less competitive division in Chicago is something I miss. But at the same time, getting beat by the best is something that only makes you better. And I learned a ton. Seattle Sockeye beat out Vancouver's Furious George to win the title in a game displaying what's possible on an Ultimate field when the best players in the world go at each other. It was a gorgeous thing to witness. I feel lucky to have been there.

We hit some bars to celebrate what was a successful trip, even if we couldn't quite notch any victories. I look back on the journey with equal parts nostalgia and appreciation for the experience. As much as I've rambled here, I didn't even get to the ajiaco, street hot dogs piled with everything imaginable, heartbreaking/last-play-of-the-game loss to Domino, ladies' penchant for designer jeans, aguardiente, papas rellenas (con salsa picante!), fantastic views, a bar that served only shots, the nice Colombian lady who helped me get cash, songs from the women's teams, harrowing cab ride to the airport, and probably a million other things I have forgotten. Aside from my mediocre play on the field, the trip surpassed every expectation and then some. I hope I can do it again someday.

Team Truco "after"

PS - I have already told them personally, but I must give special thanks to Mike and Martin for organizing and managing the whole shebang, to Emi for basically taking care of me that first night, and to Sergio for going way above and beyond what any anfitrión could possibly be asked to do. Un abrazo fuerte a todos. Vamos Truco!!!

Catching Up: November, Part I

2010-04-26T18:25:00.007-03:00

I often think back to a conversation I had in Monte Hermoso during our celebratory asado with Josh and Nick. Josh, you see, had always been a die-hard basketball junkie. He couldn't get enough. By all accounts, (well, by his accounts anyway), he was a damn good player. I had been the same, though probably not as strong a hoopster as he was, but basketball was the only sport I wanted to play. Times change. I got sick of people hacking drives to the hoop and calling bullshit fouls. So maybe I was looking for something else. When my friend Joe forcibly turned me on to Ultimate, it was a coercion for which I have found myself forever grateful.

That's a fine-lookin' league!

Ultimate was still relatively new to Josh, and though he was clearly enjoying it, he had yet to be totally convinced of its supremacy. Nick and I concluded our diatribe by repeating simply but assuredly, "It's the best sport." In that moment, we were perhaps a bit absolute in this conclusion, fueled by excessive amounts of beef and wine. Josh seemed to accept that we meant it and took it to heart. A year later, Josh would later claim, on videotape, that Ultimate is "his vida" here in Argentina. Maybe that was an overstatement and maybe not, but regardless there's something about this game. When you're playing well, it's like flying. You see the plays develop the moment they begin. You send the disc to the open space, on its way to connect with a teammate like they were born to be together. When you're the one chasing it down, you're a shark intercepting its prey. And on days when you're off your game, the frustration of horrible round of golf seems soothing by comparison.

November unveiled itself to be the most Ultimate-laden month of my life, and I owe it all to the amazing community that has sprung up around the sport in Buenos Aires. You may recall the last time I brought up the sport in this space, detailing Big Red's triumphant fall campaign. From that point onward, the team continued its success. We tore through the spring season, winning every game. Even though we were practicing twice a week and had really gelled, the games kept getting closer. An intense one against Discosur ended with a one-point victory. And in the last game of the season, Aqua gave us all we could handle before we finally pulled away in the second half.

Martin shows that all those throwing practices have paid dividends

It is amazing how much improvement each of the four Buenos Aires teams have seen. Strong leadership and dedication from all the league's participants are having an impact. When we arrived to Parque Sarmiento for the season-ending tournament, we were probably overconfident. Facing Cadillacs in our first game, they came out playing a zone that gave us fits. We retaliated the only way we could at first - with solid defense. Seriously, it was like the Pistons and Pacers in 2004 out there. The first half ended with Cadillacs up 5-3, and every single Big Red jugador nervous if not downright scared. I was in the scared category. To go undefeated for nearly two full seasons and lose in the semis is not what we were after, but we didn't seem to have any answers for what they were throwing at us.

Big Red = Buena onda

The half-time talk was almost as duro as the Cadillac defense. People were vocal but positive, and we came out for the second half charged up. Thanks to some more aggressive passes (one could say risky, but they worked), we found the weaknesses in the defense and bounced down the field to some beautiful scores. At the same time, we turned up our defense and managed to pull away in the second half. We'd regained our swagger, but deep down I think a lot of us were tired after a match that was more intense than we had expected.

I am pretty sure I caught this disc - I just can't remember if it was with my hand or my mouth.

That set us up for a showdown versus Discosur. The first half could not have been more even. I'm pretty sure the maximum consecutive points by either team was two. Come halftime, we had no reason to hang our heads. Both teams brought their A game, and all of us were totally exhausted. At the same time, we had proven to ourselves that we were a second-half team, and knew that there was nothing left but to keep playing hard. Somehow we discovered another gear on defense and rolled to a 15-8 victory.

The team can smell the win after Randall notches a crucial point

Whereas the fall season ended with a romp and pure elation on the field, the emotions this time around were relief and satisfaction overlaid with a healthy dose of pure exhaustion. Winning this tournament was hard. It's obvious that the Buenos Aires league has really stepped up the quality, and coming out on top felt like a huge accomplishment. A week later, we celebrated at Mike and Kyla's with a Colombian feast prepared by Roxy and Carlos. We'll end today's post at this point, but Part II is coming up, and it features more Ultimate and Colombian feasting. So get ready, you.

The sweet taste of victory

Other writing from November:
Top 50 Albums #43 - Ladyhawk - Ladyhawk
Top 50 Albums #42 - Okkervil River - Black Sheep Boy
Top 50 Albums #41 - Gogol Bordello - Gypsy Punks
A to B Back and Forth Review: Inglorious Basterds
Top 50 Albums #40 - Eels - Daisies of the Galaxy
Down in a Hole - More frustrations for Michigan

Catching Up: October

2010-03-29T22:17:00.014-03:00

To be honest, most of October pretty much followed the same as September. Belu and I toiled with our new apartment on a daily basis (though, it should be said, not with each other). I was able to play a bit more Ultimate, though we'll save the news on that front for November. Let's get to the news in blurb form:

Did you know that Volta (one of the primo heladerias in Buenos Aires) was running a promotion whereby if you walked into one of their shops on the night that the Argentine National Soccer team was playing, you could buy one kilo of ice cream and get another for free? It's true. Guess who decided to take advantage? I'm sad to say that this was all devoured in less than two weeks. I'm happy to say it was delicious.

Of course, this was just one half of the humongous batch

Also, our balcony continued to deliver amazing sunsets and we continued to appreciated them:

I need to set the camera up to automatically capture these

The biggest news in October is that Belu and I celebrated one year of dating, and did so in style. First, on the actual date, we hit up Bengal, a fancy Indian-ish joint, and then topped off the celebration with a trip to the Park Hyatt (aka, the most posh place in this city). Speaking of posh, here's Belu living it up in a wing chair with a pricey cocktail.

She's really out of my league

She surprised me with a trip to the Four Seasons in Carmelo, Uruguay. This was one of the fanciest places I'd been, and we had a nearly perfect weekend. What went wrong? It rained the entire time. I know people say this a lot and tend to exaggerate. I suppose I am doing the same. We arrived and had about 45 minutes of overcast skies. From that point on, it rained without a break for three straight days. So that was kind of a bummer. But we had a blast anyway. I'll let the photos tell the tale:

Some first class alfajores were awaiting us in the room.

The beautiful pool we never tried

We named him Boris

Belu gave up her cat because of my allergies. Looks like she's not ready to take Boris in.

Claudia - profesora de Mate estilo Uruguayo

Take up residence in Buenos Aires and before too long, you will spot some people drinking their mate in a peculiar way. That way is to hug the thermos like it's your favorite stuffed animal. Also, to bring the mate with you wherever you go. But the question remained - why do they do these things? Turns out they're related. In Uruguay, the mate is meant to be enjoyed no matter where you are. At work, home, on the road, while walking, riding a horse, whatevs. In Argentina it is meant to be shared, and generally drunk at home or in the office. So let's say you're riding a bicycle and want to drink some mate. You need to be able to pour water into the gourd, but you need to keep a hand on the handlebars. Thus, you have to be able to manager you mate with only one limb. And this is where the tradition of toting the thermos around like Kitty Carryall began. Or so the legend goes.

My best attempt at the Uruguayan technique.

Alfajor classes. Note the name on my hat.

Our constant companion - rain. We wuz robbed!

But with a gorgeous suite like this, who can complain?

Quite simply the biggest bathtub I have ever seen... Who needs a pool?

Other writing from October:
Top 50 Albums: #45 - Animal Collective - Merriweather Post Pavillion
Top 50 Albums: #44 - José González - In Our Nature

Video from Ultimate Argentina

2010-03-24T18:20:00.003-03:00

This is just a taste of what's coming when we get to Catching Up November (coming eventually). I'm only in this video a leetle bit, but for those who speak Spanish, it's a spot-on overview of what we are trying to accomplish here accompanied by some excellent footage. Bien hecho, Santi! (And everyone else who was involved.)

Please enjoy responsibly:

Catching Up: September

2010-03-21T13:11:00.001-03:00

September was when things started to become impossibly busy, and also the time this (and my other two blogs) fell apart. But there are reasons for that. The overarching event in September was my moving in with a girlfriend for the first time. I haven't moved much since my college days, and the last one was such a whirlwind (moving down here), that I couldn't really remember the details. I was suddenly reminded of what a pain in the ass it is to move, and I wasn't even leaving my building.

The new neighbors - same as the old neighbors, but with a different angle.

After looking at 20 or so places around the neighborhood, Belu and I decided that we were most satisfied with the penthouse suite atop the same corner of the same high-rise I was already living in. It was a bit smaller than we wanted, but the spacious balcony and sublime view of the Rio de la Plata more than outweighed the concerns over where we were going to put all of our stuff.

Martin and Mike showing that the Big Red family is not afraid to lend a hand, even with a heavy fridge.

Of course, my part of the move was relatively easy. I had only brought a small portion of my belongings from Chicago, and the elevator was going to do most of the work. Some of my friends from Big Red helped me with the big stuff, and I had three weeks of overlap to get the rest. Belu, however, did not have it so easy. She had been living alone for years, and accumulated, well, probably not as much as I had in my ten years in Chicago, but enough to fill some space. Most impressive was the sheer quantity of shoes. We counted something like 60 pairs in total, and that was after a dozen were given away to charity.

This is the zapatos' room.

Clearly, solutions were needed. We hunted all over the city for the correct furniture, and that was without need for a bed or sofa. Over the following weeks, we selected a table, chairs, a desk, chest of drawers, additional closet, deck furniture, futon, washing machine, and a very capable shoe-storage thingy which currently holds 36 of the pairs. Unfortunately, the guy building the thingy (me) wasn't quite so capable, and one side now has "customized exposed plywood." At least that's how it would be sold if it was real estate. The whole experience was no picnic. Many deliveries arrived pre-broken and had to be returned, making the process that much harder.

We tend to get some amazing clouds up here.

But all of this paled in comparison to the fight we had with DirecTV. Unfortunately (well, fortunately for anyone reading this), I can't recall all of the frustrating details. They jerked us around for weeks, finally came out to see us only because Belu e-mailed the company's head of the Southern Cone (Argentina, Chile, Uruguay, Paraguay, and Bolivia). When they arrived, we were told that the phone line was not digitized, therefore they couldn't install internet. They also, therefore, could not install DirecTV because we had ordered them together. That, more than anything else, led to the demise of my online writing and a hell of a lot of other frustrations. We switched to cable-based TV and internet and have been marginally satisfied ever since. In sum, DirecTV totally sucks and you should never give them any of your money. Plus, if it's raining the dish doesn't work anyway, and those are the times you really want to watch TV.

But nowadays, most of the kinks are worked out, and we live in tranquility on one of Buenos Aires' highest floors. All that pain in September has paid off.

I leave you with a video that I kept thinking about as I was building the shoe-storage-thingy. The Peach Cobbler. Enjoy!

More fancy cloudwork.

And we get to see the sun set every day.

Other writing from September:
Top 50 Albums: #46 - Caribou - Andorra
On Deals (an examination of Argentine futbol and Michigan football in darker and sunnier times, respectively)

Catching Up: August

2010-03-08T21:38:00.000-03:00

August proved to be an extremely busy month. Pretty much all I did was work and look for apartments, with a little bit of Ultimate and blogging thrown in for good measure. I am honestly trying to remember if I did anything else.

However, the month did kick off in exciting fashion. Because we were in Chicago for Belu's birthday, and because we couldn't settle on a date for celebrating here, she decided to skip the celebration. Well, I decided to take advantage of the opportunity and throw a surprise party. This was harder, but the execution went perfectly thanks to a lot of help from Belu's friends. I told Belu we were having dinner with Mike and Kyla in Chinatown. Everyone came over to my house to prepare. When I arrived at Belu's to pick her up, I feigned illness. We would have to go back to my place to take precaution because of my cat allergy. Belu, concerned for my well-being, insisted we return to my apartment. Then this happened:

In sum, it worked perfectly. More importantly, Belu had a great time, which was of course the whole point.

Belu and the girls. And Mati.

At the end of the month (or maybe the beginning of September, I can't recall), a work trip to England granted me the opportunity to stop over for a couple days in Amsterdam to visit Brad and Natalia. That took me (briefly) out of a particularly stressful period at work, and no we didn't go to a coffee shop. But riding a bicycle around town is a treat rarely offered in Buenos Aires. Follow that up with a boat cruise around the canals and you have a really chill couple of days. Thanks to my hosts for taking care of it all, and sorry the visit was so brief.

We move on to the bigger news in September. Hopefully I will get some more catch-up time soon!

Other writing from August:
Top Ten Worst Cartoon Remakes
Brad and I review Public Enemies
Kicking off the top 50 Albums of the 2000s
Album #50: Rival Schools - United by Fate
#49: At the Drive-In: Relationship of Command
#48: Shout Out Louds - Howl Howl Gaff Gaff
#47: Mastodon - Crack the Skye

Catching Up: July

2010-03-07T19:48:00.019-03:00

So like I said, we need to catch up around here. So we're going to go month by month through the past and get back to current as soon as time allows.

At the outset of July, Belu and I took a weeklong trip to Chicago to celebrate various birthdays. Hers, my mom's and my brother's. We hit up Taste of Chicago (on a Tuesday at 2:30 PM - ideal timing!). Though far too short, it was a great trip, and we got a week of summer. Here are some photos:

The flags were a clear indication they knew we were coming

I once took a road trip that started just like this!

The best bread pudding in the world (from Rosangeli's). Apparently not so for the Argentine palate.

The obligatory Sarkis' "Disaster"

Just one small example of the best skyline in the world. From the architecture tour boat.

Obligatory Cloudgate photo. I'm in there, too (look for the womanly shopping bag)

Mmmmmm... Buffalo wing aftermath fingers...

Perhaps not a surprise, but the cheesecake stole the show. Argentine cheesecake is always weak stuff.

The famous Water Tower

Obligatory Home Alone church screamy picture.

McRae becomes part of the exhibit

What can I say? We got jealous.

La familia!

Late in the month, I accomplished something somewhat significant. I played board games in Argentina. OK, let me rephrase. I played board games in Spanish. At Adri's birthday party, Boggle and Taboo were two featured events, and I not only participated, I actually played well. Now, there are some caveats to such success. Namely, I played a hell of a log of Boggle as a kid and oms eof the Argentines were trying the game for the first time. And one could argue that a limited vocabulary actually helps with Taboo because you don't know any of the rest of the words on the card anyway. But my ability to communicated had clearly improved. Besides, after that we had a rousing game of Sexionary which traffics in international languages.

Deemed most hilarious dibujo of the evening.

Cute kids playing Jenga:

OK, so that was fun, right? Hopefully we can catch up quickly with the remaining (gulp) eight months.

Other writing from July:
First Blush: Farm by Dinosaur Jr.
Which Chick Flicks are the Chickiest?

If the House is a Rockin...

2010-02-27T20:37:00.005-03:00

Sorry for the lack of postings here. I know I've said that before. Work has been impossibly busy of the last six months and has cut into a lot of the "me time" (the "we time" too, but that's another story). Anyway, I have a plan to catch up and I hope to do so soon. We'll see...

I am certain that most of you have heard about the earthquake in Chile last night. 8.8 on the Richter Scale is freaking ginormous. To put things in perspective, the Haitian one was a 7.0. They really don't come much higher than that. Nobody warns you about these things, and I've never noticed an earthquake before (though they happen in Chicago on occasion, I always just sleep right through).

Last night, I did not sleep through. The epicenter was all the way over in Chile, 700 miles from here. But we live on the 36th floor and I awoke because a bunch of stuff in my apartment was making a ton of noise (the chain on the curtain slapping violently against the wall, the sliding doors to the closet rattling, who knows what else). Coming out of a deep sleep, I had no idea what was going on. We get noise during storms, but it was quickly clear that something was different. The building was shaking like crazy, it felt like being on an airplane with bad turbulence. Or, since I was in bed, more like that scene from The Exorcist.

Now, our building will move a bit from time to time. The chain on the curtain is sometimes not still. But this was seriously crazy. For a few brief moments, I thought there was a chance I was going to die. There are enough things that break and fall apart here all the time that I was unsure of the confidence I should have. I wondered for a second if the sensation was all just in my head, but all the noise was clearly real. After what seemed like three or four minutes, it settled down a bit and I decided to get up and look out the window. I nearly fell down from the movement that remained (after the bad part had stopped). To my shock, everything outside was still and silent. I had expected a wild storm and it was suddenly clear what had happened.

I can't imagine what felt like in Chile. and I have no idea how they didn't end up with thousands of casualties. I always thought it would be kind of cool to be in an earthquake, but I no longer have that opinion, at least not while living in a high rise. Of course I'm not complaining; there are people who died and many lost their homes. Belu slept right through it. I wasn't sure if I should wake her and run out of the building together or let her sleep. Had it gone on for two more minutes, I would have done just that. Luckily, it stopped and I could uneasily contemplate what had just happened.

Here's hoping that those suffering can find some peace and recover from this disaster.

A great, fledgling Spanish blog

2009-10-15T22:41:00.003-03:00

Estimados,

I want to let all of my local friends who are working on their Spanish game know about a great new blog that's written by my former Spanish teacher in Chicago. Juan's approach is all about keeping it simple. When we have time to think about what we're saying, most of us extranjeros do a pretty solid job. But in the moment, we can get confused and mix things up. The key is of course getting practice. But if you can follow Juan's advice, keep things simple and learn the rules in way that makes them stick, you're nearly there.

It's gone through a few name changes, and it's currently called El Diario de un Profesor de Español. I highly recommend bookmarking the page as every time he posts something it either solidifies what I thought I already knew, or corrects me where I've been wrong.

Still no internet en casa. Hopefully we'll get this situation figured out soon. At least it now appears that the lavaropas disaster has been "ironed out." Jajaja.....ja. Ja.

Saludos!
A

Where You Been?

2009-10-12T13:48:00.004-03:00

Hi Gang,

Sorry for the utter lack of posting in this and the other two blogs for, well, about a month now. I have moved. I do not have internet at home. My company has gone fascist and decided that large portions of the internet shall be off-limits. This includes the place where I create postings. So, I write this note to anyone who may be coming back here, expecting updates on my life and other ramblings. There is SO MUCH to discuss, but no way to blog about it yet. Anyway, sit tight and we should have this crap figured out soon. I hope so, anyway.

Just for the sake of giving you a taste, here's a view from my window (many, many more to come):

The End Is the Beginning

2009-08-17T14:56:00.000-03:00

Credit: The majority of the photos here were taken by Karen and posted to Facebook. She did a fantastic job with them.

I've written here many times about Ultimate here in Argentina, though it's been a little while since I've given you an update. But there was recently big, big news. The Fall League was the most organized and competitive the country of Argentina has seen. There were early stumbles with the securing of fields and occasionally ironing things out between teams. But with a lot of heartfelt effort by the leaders of this organization, things eventually progressed. We had regular league parings every Sunday, and nearly all of them came off without too much trouble. This is assuming that spirited disagreements with the local futbolistas doesn't constitute much trouble.

Just like me, the league is looking for space to land

Big Red dropped the last game of the previous season to Discosur and then a hardfought season opener to Cadillacs. But since then, we had been on a real tear, winning the rest of our games, most of them by a healthy margin. But the team really earned those victories. We began practicing once a week on Wednesday nights, rain or stars. We added Saturdays as well, working on the Ho Stack, zone D, conditioning and a litany of other in-game pointers. As always, Mike shared his knowledge with a positive attitude. By the end of the season, we were a well-oiled machine. We were confident, but in the playoffs anything could happen.

Partly because of the Swine Flu and vacations for some of their key members, The semi-finals were set for Saturday against Cadillacs. Unfortunately, there was a mix-up on the timing and the two teams did not arrive at the same time. We technically could have asked them to forfeit, but a near unanimous vote meant the game was on and the winner would go to the finals. We came out on fire, being sufficiently warmed up, and cruised to a 15-3 win. Cadillacs were short on ladies, but did their best to keep playing hard through the last point.

Waiting for us in the finals was Aqua, the newest team in Argentina. Led by a Colombian nicknamed Chapi, they had also been practicing and shown a lot of improvement. Chapi wasn't there the first time we played them, and was battling injuries in the second go-round, so this was an entirely new game. What transpired was the most intense game I've played in any sport since I was in high school. That's a good thing. Normally when people stroll by the park and see these crazy young people runing around throwing frisbees, they think we're crazy. With the intensity ratched up, lots of fans in attendance, and everybody screaming the whole time, we seemed all the more certifiable.

Dani outstretches Chapi for the disc

Big Red went up early (5-1), but Aqua fought back the whole game, cutting the score to 8-7 right after halftime. The key plays all blur together. Carlos making an incredible D in the endzone. Checho coming out of nowhere to sky behind me and my faulty knee for a huge point. Martin playing like an unleashed animal, continuing his fine performance from the semis. Dani faking a throw, knowing Chapi had no choice but to make a play for the block, then calmly throwing for the score. Fer getting open in the corner of the endzone for a key point... and many more plays I can't remember. Every single player made a huge contribution.

Checho wins the battle

As the game drew to a close, we capitalized on Aqua's few mistakes, and tightened our game. Up 13-10, Chapi poached off of me, and I darted to the endzone. I nearly dropped the disc, but managed to haul in Point #14, just barely over his outstretched arm. Soon after, a wide open Emi was sprinting to the other endzone's front corner where he caught the game-winner, putting the fall season into the books.

Point 14

After a pretty wild celebration in the endzone, we did the spirited thing and congratulated Aqua on a great game. Both of these teams had improved by leaps and bounds since the beginning of the season, and deserved to feel proud.

Todos con buen espiritu

But now that the most official season in Argentine history was completed, how to go forward? This is a difficult question. Clearly, the season was a great success, but the league is in many ways still like a toddler in the great scheme of things. I suggested some ideas and was subsequently invited to a planning meeting disguised as an asado. That's my favorite kind of meeting! Maxi had 11 of us over to his house, made some excellent meat, and cooked it all in the rain. In sum, we had six Argentines and six extranjeros, three players from each team. We still have a ways to go when it comes to planning together, but everyone clearly cares a ton.

Maxi, el asador - undeterred by the rain

Now there's a foundation. We still have a lot of growing to do, but there are a lot of people contributing. The first step was an excellent hat tournament held this weekend. Unfortunately, mal clima (bad weather) and Pepe Nielsen conspired to keep me from participating the second day. But with six teams of at least 10 people each, it's clear that the momentum is continuing. Spring league, a possible trip to Medellin, and a likely return to Monte Hermoso are all indicators that there's a future for the sport here, and I'm really happy to be a part of it. We celebrate because we won the title. But we haven't stopped practicing.

Ladies and gentlemen, your fall league champions. Vamos BIG RED!

A gripe on the populous

2009-07-14T10:07:00.003-03:00

In some ways, it would be fair to call could call Argentina a dirty place. This applies to the air pollution, the fact that nobody curbs their dogs, and most certainly the politics. After a busy and fun week in Chicago (post coming when I get around to it), we returned to Buenos Aires to find that the entire country was gripped with a fever of concern over the Influenza H1N1 (aka swine flu or gripe porcina). 80% of local news coverage is devoted to it, and suddenly major precautions are being taken. This was an abrupt change. When we left, there were a few mentions of the issue, but nobody was taking it very seriously.

I've been here long enough to say that Argentina is my home. As Josh eloquently put it, I'm living in Argentina, not just having a brief jaunt around the world. And as you can hopefully tell from the rest of this blog, I really love it here. But of course there are things I wish were different. The interesting thing is, nearly everything that's wrong with this country is evinced by this situation with swine flu.

Some of you may recall that over my first five months in town, I got sick six times. It was a steady practice of bedrest with a whole lot of nose blowing mixed in. I attributed it mainly to the probable slew of germs new to my immune system mixed with my attempts at living the Argentine lifestyle of staying out later than the moon and stars every weekend. While these were likely the main causes, other factors were likely culprits as well. The level of preventative hygiene, particularly surrounding food and drinks is completely different here. And by different, I mean lower. People regularly drink from the same glasses, or when sharing mate, the same straw. Same goes for food. For instance, I recently saw employees at Blockbuster sharing a half-kilo of ice cream and only using one spoon between the three of them. It's part of the charm. There's just no premium on cleanliness here. I can't count the number of times a waiter has put my fork on the table by holding the tines directly in their fingers. I'm not exactly Howie Mandel, but I have been accused of being a bit of a germ freak before. While these saliva-sharing habits gave me the willies a bit at first, I readily embraced the new culture and hoped for the best. And yes, I was sick six times early on, but I've been healthy since Christmas and haven't changed my habits.

So I was extremely curious about all the new behavior that greeted my return from Chicago. Before we were allowed to deplane, everyone had to don surgical masks and hand a form saying we had no symptoms to two young ladies wearing white labcoats. Then we were allowed to remove the masks.

Deemed clean enough.

While this was a rather cursory check that wouldn't stop anyone who wouldn't readily volunteer their condition anyway, when I got to the office later that day, I was surprised to see some major changes. Alcochol-based hand disenfectant had been dstributed to every room in the building. Signs were posted in the building instrucing people on how to wash their hands, and why it is so bloody important. Not only that, people were actually doing it a lot more than before. Some refused to shake hands or even greet in the normal kissing fashion. When someone on the streets would sneeze or cough, others would jump away as if they were spilling sulfuric acid before casting dirty looks at the person who was obviously trying to maliciously murder the whole country.

Employees anywhere and those without jobs should really be doing this kind of thing anyway.

But why such a sudden change? The conventional wisdom is that with an impending election, the government hid the real figures from the public regarding how many cases of swine flu had occurred. The original indications were that there had only been a handful of cases, but after the election they released the "real" numbers and suddenly there were 60 reported deaths. This conventional wisdom falls in line with others such as the government-published rate of inflation versus the figures presented by independent organizations. While inflation is one thing, this is a whole different level. How can the government in a country with a large population of people who live at very low income levels be so craven on such an important and dangerous issue? In the elections, the reigning party got beat pretty badly, so it either didn't work or people have become fed up with them.

But all of this leads to the more important question of whether they are still lying about the numbers now. Rumors abound, and there are wide opinions on every side of the issue. Some say "it's all a show, this is no big deal." But others are legitimately worried because they have connections to some who have gotten sick or died. Honestly, we really don't know what to believe. My opinion is that things are overstated, and some other news event will soon knock the swine flu off the front pages. But I know some very intelligent and educated folks who are taking every precaution and very nervous about the situation. I always washed my hands before eating and after riding on the colectivo, so other than making sure I get a morning orange juice more frequently I haven't changed my behavior or outlook very much. This too shall pass.

The sad thing about all of this is the reaction of the citizens. They should be outraged. Don't get me wrong, it's not like George Bush didn't pull this kind of crap all the time with the terrorist threat level, but even he and Cheney didn't intentionally go this far. The government put everyone living here in serious jeapoardy to score some political points. But when I ask about it, most of my friends and coworkers smile, shrug, and say "It's Argentina." They are resigned to put up with this kind of thing because they just assume that whoever would step in to replace the current leaders would do an equally terrible job. Nobody thinks the politics will improve no matter who's in charge. OK, so maybe there's no hope for the political future of Argentina (at least, nobody ever seems to have any), but will the hand-washing be a permanent change? And maybe restaurants can clean the silverware every now and again? After all, we pay just to sit down. This extranjero would really appreciate at least some good to come of this, and the overall improvement in health of a nation would be ideal. I'm not optimistic, but just in case I'm keeping my fingers crossed (and clean).

Cariló's Way

2009-07-13T16:03:00.003-03:00

Because I am so far behind on my postings in this space, this one is going to consist largely of photos and my usual silly captions. Not long after our trip to Villa General Belgrano, Belu and I took another writing sabbatical weekend to another peaceful and picturesque locale here in Argentina. This time, it was Cariló, an oceanfront community that has no paved roads and a lot of wealthy tourists. For this weekend, I suppose that included us. We drank mate, ate a ton, played on the beach (but not in the frigid water), failed to find a way to tune in to the Bulls' last playoff game, and I even got some writing done. I highly recommend Cariló, but only if you're staying in a nice, secluded place and don't hang out all day downtown to fight the crowds of self-important folks. Anyway, that's how we played it. The photograpic evidence:

Downtown Cariló in a more peaceful moment.

Breakfast delivered to the house every morning. Gooooood stuff.

Atop these tall trees, there were many, many birds nests with many, many little birdies. You could tell when the parents were away gathering food because the birdies were going berserk, tweeting their brains out. Not so different from a typical Argentine child at any moment during its existence.

I don't know what these birds were, but they were poking around in the ground for food. Maybe they needed to fill up before flying back to the noisy nests.

This snail is not here anymore, but he left us his old clothes as a gift.

Who knew mushrooms could grow in sand? By the way, this thing was huuuuuge.

With your pizza, you can get a Kokicola or Eleven-Up (I'm kidding - probably).

Belu at the front door to our place for the weekend. Muy lindo!

Abuela Goya makes some really good helado. Belu tries to magically get more from her.

...while I'm busy trying to make nice..

We, uhhh, got fondue twice. Once with meat/oil, and once with cheese. This is the cheese version. Belu is in charge of the long fork at the moment and will heretofore have an additional nickname --> The Fondue Master. (McRae, we ate this in your honor both times.)

I guarantee you that this dessert is bigger than it looks in this picture. By the way, we Uncle Frank'd it. For those who don't know (ok, nearly all of you), that means we didn't leave a single morsel, even though we knew of the negative health consequences.

They sell a LOT of sweets in this town. This is a chocolate store with loads of good stuff including rows and rows of chocolate huevos.

I'm smiling because I thankfully can't feel my feet anymore. The first 30 seconds were frighteningly painful.

How do you solve a problem like María?

2009-07-09T07:38:00.001-03:00

Recently overshadowed by Michael Jackson, Michael Jackson, and Michael Jackson, you may have heard that my new home country found itself in the American news recently, through no fault of its own. Well, no fault other than being home to oodles of beautiful women. (Upon first arriving, an American friend of mine was famous for saying "I fall in love every day" about his various walks about town.)

South Carolina Governor Mark Sanford found himself madly in love with an Argentine gal. Hey, it happens. He was so enamored that he bolted from his office to hang out down here for five days without telling a soul where he was going. But you already know all of this. You also know that he called her his soulmate, but he was "trying to love his wife again." Yeah, that won't be used in the eventual divorce proceedings. You also probably know that in the sordid e-mails he sent to his South American flame, he quoted the bible. Yes, the holy one. And of course he was one of the holier than thou dudes who condemned Bill Clinton when he had his affair. And he's against gays getting married because allowing such a thing would trample the "sanctity" of the union. Blah blah hypocrisy blah.

Sanford covering an old Swaggart classic

But there are perhaps several things you don't know about this event because of course the MSM in the US hasn't bothered to really investigate anything. For instance, they continue to call Sanford's soul mate "Maria." Hardly anyone here goes by Maria. Half the women in the country are named María Middlename Lastname and every single one of them goes by their middle name. I have four Marias on my team at work, and none of them are called Maria. The New York Times keeps referring to her "Maria", but the woman was a freaking news reporter here and most of the photos we've seen show her using the middle name of Belén. (But hey, they won't call torture "torture" either, so why should we be surprised?) I realize this is a simple point and not a big deal, but it's also painfully obvious that they made a mistake. Unless Governor Sanford also called her "Maria" in which case he'd better take some time to get to know his soulmate a little better before jumping into a commitment that's going to cost him his professional career.

With the name printed plainly for all to see

More importantly, the story in the US surrounded only his tearful press conference, but who really bothered to find out what drew him to Argentina? I mean, that's a really long trip solely for a weekend of passion. This woman was probably a revelation to him, but why? Just because of her accent and lean physique? Was it because she was unlike any "Latina" he had met before? In all news reports, the word Argentina was emphasized for its weirdness. It is a weird place to go. In fact, considering the man was a family values republican it's the only thing that makes this story unique. (It's not like he was, say, soliciting gay sex in an airport bathroom.) But what exactly made this Argentine woman so special to Governor Sanford? He risked his entire political future just to be with her. And how did he convince himself that this was OK? Did she tell him that all Argentine men cheat on their wives and girlfriends to persuade him that when in Rome he should do as the Romans do? That's what I'd like to know. We'll probably have to wait for the eventual tell-all book.

I've written several times here about Belu in this space, the Argentine woman whom I fell for. She's another Maria - another María Belén in fact. Turns out that Sanford's Belén lives just two blocks away from mine. Also like Belu, she speaks English and Portuguese and is studying Chinese. She's a former news broadcaster and a divorcee. Based on that limited information, she does sound interesting, doesn't she? Furthering the odd coincidences, the couple's favorite restaurant, Guido's Bar, is also the place where Belu and I had our first date, our favorite restaurant, and a place we visit twice a month. The owner, a friend of Belu's, was on the local news talking about how the Governor was in there eating all the time. There's a certain possibility that we sat at the next table during one of Sanford's jaunts. I owe Guido's a proper posting in its own right, but let's just say that the pasta they serve is as good a reason to hop on a plane for 10 hours as any.

I heard a group of English speakers in my neighborhood just a few days before Sanford's big cry. It stood out because you don't see tourists in this area too often, especially older ones. Perhaps that was the Governor on his way to a parilla or maybe walking back from a night at Guido's. Whoever they were, they weren't crying. They seemed awfully happy to be hanging out in Palermo Chico. I feel the same way all the time, especially when I'm with my "Maria". Plus, I never have to feel guilty about it. My family knows where I am.

The last abnormal ramble

2009-06-15T21:42:00.000-03:00

After enough time abroad, you're not really abroad anymore. Most of my friends who preceded me in a move to a random foreign country were very connected to their home life for the first six months. I was the same. Look at how the postings have dwindled lately. In my case, the job is playing a large role. June is the busy season around here, something nobody really told me about ahead of time. But more than that, the difficult thing is that your life abroad just becomes your life. You don't remember what's different about the new country you're living in - and probably things back home would seem strange if you went back to face them again. So this may be my last post in a long time about "those wacky South American things." Because after this, I can't tell the difference anyway. So without further ado, here are some quick hitters...

I've gotten pretty good at closing doors to taxis. This would seem like a simple process, but I was universally hollered at every time I got out of a cab for the first six months or so. It took me a while to even figure out why. The thing is, these cab doors are always really flimsy. They don't make the big gas guzzlers like we have in the states. They might as well be adobes. Plus, since I'm a big strong dude (at least by Argentine standards), I couldn't help it. Finally, I've managed to find my touch with the doors and have learned how to cierre suave. In fact, sometimes I start so weak I have to close it again. Yay me.

I had been seeing these signs all over town and had no idea what they were:

Clarence Beeks is running!

Apparently they're school crossings, but it's a bit goofy, no? I suppose the kid has a briefcase in his hand, but do you know any kids who take their briefcase with them to school? It could also be a boombox or perhaps a really big sandwich. Anyway I don't exactly see the drivers slowing down when they encounter one of these.

For the first time in my life, I have a maid who comes to clean my house. While I'm sure my mom would not approve (because these are things I should be able to do myself), the fact that she comes once a week, spends five or six hours in the apartment, and only costs 50 pesos per visit (current street value: 13 bucks), it's hard to pass the opportunity up. The thing is, both the maid at my house and the people who handle cleaning at work don't exactly do a phenomenal job. The bathroom and kitchen are relatively clean, but it's not exactly the overhaul I would like (yes, 13 bucks - I'm not complaining). The biggest thing is that they tend to rearrange things that don't need rearranging. OK, in my house maybe that makes sense. She's paid to clean the place, and if she has the urge to move one set of T-shirts to some other random drawer, who am I to complain? But at the office, the cleaners are constantly moving papers into different piles and onto different desks. In Schaumburg, the papers (those who've worked with me know there are always some piles) were always untouched, but not here. I find this more strange than unnerving, but shouldn't they be cleaning up the medialuna crumbs instead of trying to help me with my filing system?

A friend recently had a new daughter and immediately had her ears pierced. I knew they did this in India, but didn't know that it was common in any Western cultures, but here pretty much everyone does it. Also, they frequently shave the newborn baby's head because it's a "cleaner look." This is something I'm not close to getting used to.

There are a lot of US shows and movies that are very popular here. That's probably no surprise. The Simpsons trumps everything, although Friends is quite close - especially with the women. That said, I was very, very surprised to find the following array of DVD packs together on the shelf in a local bookstore:

Did you know there were four Critters movies? Did you also know that I'd rather watch them than the OC?

Any and all public construction projects take forever here. Yet it is not uncommon to see people working well into Saturday night on a new sidewalk or underground pipes. The most egregious example I saw was when they repaved the street around the corner from me. We had similar problems in Chicago. My friend Steve used to say that it appeared that the guy who comes to strip away the old street always forgets to tell the guy who's supposed to come and put down the new street that he's done his job. But here, it's like they don't even know that each other exist. I think it took over three months to get the new street put down. Yet the new high-rise next door to my apartment is going up in a real hurry. I hope it's structurally sound.

I haven't talked much in this space about mate because until recently I didn't drink it much. Thanks to the visit to Villa General Belgrano and under Belu's tutelige, I've become a fan. Mate is an herbal tea that is generally served in a hollowed out gourd and sucked down with a metal straw called a bombilla. It has a slightly bitter, but very natural flavor. The cool thing about mate is that it is meant to be shared amongst friends. The mate is filled with the herbs first (yerba) and then with hot water. Once a person has finished the water contained therein they pass the mate to the next person. It's got quite a kick and once you develop a taste for it, coffee seems less appealing. Here's a guy talking about his way of preparing mate:

Everyone here uses graph paper. I have yet to see a notebook with standard lined paper. And I'm totally used to that now. Also, they have been taught here that there are only six continents. North and South America are part of a joined big one. Doesn't that kind of blow your mind? Kind of like this

"Where's Waldo" is called "Donde está Wally?"

My team recently moved from the extremely posh office (universally believed to be the nicest office building in Buenos Aires) to the main Nielsen office. That was obviously a bummer for us, but the company is going to save a ton of money thanks to the move. There is one thing, however, I will not miss form that place. The stall door in the bathroom in the old office wouldn't just creak, it sounded like a train wreck that could be heard across the entire floor. It was pretty much like you were declaring: "Hey everybody! I'm gonna take a dump now!" Then, when you finished your business and opened the door again, the same screeching noise: "Hey everybody! I'm finished with my dump!" Also, it nearly locked you in there every time. So your post-dump announcement could come pretty late. The move-out day was really surreal. People came to buy all the furniture that hadn't already been moved out. It was a ghost-town of an office, only we were still working in it. I can't imagine what that must feel like for people when their business actually shuts down. Anyway, the new place is not nearly as nice, but at least you can use the bathroom without such a public declaration of your activities.

Last but not least, here's an ad from a publication we saw in Villa General Belgrano. I think it speaks for itself.

Translation: You find quality in Dick House

Semana Santa en Villa General Belgrano

2009-06-07T12:10:00.003-03:00

Note - this post comes very late. I'm way behind here, thanks largely to a busy work schedule. Please be patient...

One of the hardest things for me to accomplish here has been progress with my book. It's not that I haven't been eager to push forward with it or been struggling with writer's block. I simply don't have much time. My job keeps me very busy, Big Red Ultimate is now meeting three days a week, and then there's my often busy social calendar. On top of that, I'm putting a lot of energy into learning Spanish, even if it doesn't take up a particular chunk of time. The other area where I've been failing to do all I want is travel around Argentina. This was partly by design. I wanted to understand the city first, and wait for the travel until after my Spanish had improved a bit. But thus far, aside from the fabulous frisbee tournament in Monte Hermoso, I have been largely city-confined.

Belu had a great idea that would serve to jumpstart both of these endeavors. We could go off to the country and spend the long Easter weekend in a cabin where I could make some real progress with my writing. So we planned a trip to the province of Córdoba. Easter weekend is the longest holiday of the year, with everyone having Thursday and Friday off from work. This made for a troublesome beginning. All the extranjeros I know here have raved about the buses - that they run on time and are luxurious. Sure, compared to Greyhound, this is true. But the Wednesday night before a big weekend is not the time to be hanging at the BA bus station. This was a clamjamfry of epic proportions. But eventually, we were on our way.

This picture is just a small portion of the mess. I'd estimate that there were easily over 20,000 people at the station that night.

The bus trip passed fine, and when we awoke we were on the edge of the Cordobian Sierras. It's a bit weird to wake up on a bus in a foreign country to the squawking of the elderly ladies seated behind you. But weirder than that is the fact that we were, quite suddenly, not in the city anymore. There was actual landscape. The air wasn't just more crisp in our lungs, it looked cleaner. We still had a couple hours to go which allowed us to wake up gradually.

I really didn't know what I was in for. All I knew was that we were going to the mountains to stay in a cabin. It was probably the first time I'd done such a thing since my time with the Boy Scouts, although, I should say that there are cabins and there are cabins. This one had indoor plumbing, for instance. Our little area was several blocks outside of town and perfectly peaceful. All we could hear was the occasional bird.

This was certainly unlike any other place I'd been. The whole point of this little town is to highlight its German influence. All signs in town are on carved and painted wood. That seemed really weird to me since we're in Argentina. There is a long history of German immigration to Argentina, but it's still kind of weird to actually see it because in the city it's relatively nonexistent.

Things were a bit crowded in town. This is their biggest tourist weekend of the year. But that didn't stop us from taking an easy stroll around town. Here's Belu hanging out in front of a scenic arroyo.

Our plan was to be as self-sufficient as possible. We packed our own food. Belu was on mate detail. But it's kind of hard to bring fresh tomatoes on a long bus ride. That meant we had to hit the grocery store. Belu and I are both big fans of writing it all down and having a shopping list. Unfortunately, we stupidly forgot to bring a pen, and there was none in the cabin. So being the former boy scout in the group, I improvised. A charred matchstick would have to suffice.

Note the final item.

Our shopping resulted in some excellent, simple, and healthy meals. It's funny that nowadays we are hardly ever cooking at home, but we go on vacation and make every lunch and dinner ourselves. But breakfast was another story. It happened to be identical every morning, but delivered right to our door. An excellent loaf of bread, medialunas, and café con leche is a fine way to start any day.

Especially when can eat outside with a view like this one.

Nature was around, though mostly quiet nature. The most fascinating thing that happened was a group of ants who had come across a dead centipede. They spent the better part of a day trying to get it home. After moving it across our patio, they then had to take it up a five foot cement wall. This proved difficult as there either were not enough ants or not enough places for ants to help with the pushing. But it was amazing to watch.

Here's a shaky video of their efforts:

The poor little guys tried for hours to get this thing home. This is when our friend came into the mix. While we ate our breakfast, a neighboring bird was also eating his, darting around and finding bugs in the ground. He hung out very close to us, tweeting and eating. It took him more than a morning to realize that what the ants were up to on the other side of the building. But eventually he figured it out and ambled on by with an open beak.

In a matter of seconds, he swooped down and stole the centipede, probably along with a few ants who went along for the ride. He hopped away, seemingly content. I couldn't help but feel sorry for the little guys. To honor their futile efforts, we went out and got some tea. I mean, you're not going to stop at a casa de te named Hoffmeisterhaus? Of course you are!

Slightly buzzed from the tea served from the cutest tea-cozy ever, on our last night, we decided we'd had enough of the kitchen and deserved a dinner out. The town was overrun with tourists and we were forced to wait a very long time to sit, get menus, get a waiter, and order. But eventually, we took in some hearty German cuisine.

Not as good as my mom's, but a tasty finish to a long day. In the end, we had a wonderful time, both peaceful and fun. And perhaps the most important thing was that I got a lot of writing done for the first time since I arrived in South America. I just need to take more vacations like this, hunker down over the laptop, get a good mate buzz going, and occasionally put my feet up a bit to watch the sunset. With any luck, the book will be done before I have a kid going to college. But I'll have a great time writing it...

Parrots and Puppies

2009-05-13T12:23:00.013-03:00

I've tried to keep the chronology in order here, but the travel reports will just have to wait.

We've started a fall Ultimate league here in Buenos Aires. The total number of teams has increased to four (welcome, Aqua!), which is a 300% improvement from a year ago. What progress! An entire season's worth of games are scheduled, and every Sunday there will be discs in the air and jugadores en la cancha. Finding a space to play is a challenge. We keep setting up in advance of casual futból matches which have staked out their corner of the park for years. But there's no city authority on where to play. We assume it's first come first serve, but because we're playing a totally wacko sport that nobody here has ever heard of, we're trying not to start fights. Our field this week was a bit narrow, and had a few holes (one of which I jammed my bad leg into during a pregame warmup - the knee survived!), but served us very well.

El equipo

It's such a friendly league, but there are a few... well, not bad apples, but people who could use a refresher on the Spirit of the Game. But this week we were lined up against Cadillacs, a team loaded with buena onda, so it was of course a game featuring great spirit all day. I hadn't been performing so great in the last few games, but I did OK in this one. Employing our new offense (a ho-stack), we were deep in a nail-biter with the each team mounting leads. Finding ourselves down 13-9, we rallied a bit, but it was too little too late. The Cadillacs beat us 15-13. Still, it was a fantastic start to the most organized Ultimate we've had yet. We line up against Aqua this Sunday.

Maybe it's time for a haircut... naaaahhhh.

I can't help but think that one day in the future, there will be a dozen teams or maybe more. We practice on Wednesday nights (which is getting a bit cold - even for me!), and at the last two, a 12-year old kid named Daniel has jumped in and run the drills with us. He was at first just intrigued by the plastic discs we were tossing around, but now he's putting on marks and making great cuts. If he keeps it up, he could be the best Argentine jugador by the time he's 18.

After the game, we retired to the local Choripán stand where I scarfed down a lomito (steak sandwich). Hunger and fatigue combined to keep me from thinking of taking a picture, but it was deeeelicious. Some loros (parrots) had congregated nearby because some kids had scattered leftover pan. They approached slowly, contemplating the best way to get all this pan into their bellies. It turned out that it wasn't too difficult. Each one grabbed a piece and flew up into a tree. The bread pieces were almost as big as they were. These are some well-fed parrots...

Whole lotta loros

Unfortunately he flew off the wrong way for a clear photo, but this is a loro, lunch in hand, heading home

See how happy this guy looks!

As promised in my last post, we've got puppies on the way, too. I don't know where this dog came from or to whom he belonged, but he was milling around the choristand also.

Awwwwwwww

Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

The Definitive Note on Torture

2009-05-12T14:28:00.004-03:00

I have been overly devoted to the recent debate surrounding torture committed by the US Government in recent weeks. I find myself ashamed of my home country for various reasons. First of all, torturing suspects is inherently wrong and not doing these types of inherently wrong things is something that America is supposed to be all about. It's why we exist. The rights of the accused are defended against this type of thing in the Bill of Rights - four times! Secondly, anyone who's not lying to save their own ass generally says that it is ineffective. It does not keep anybody safe as it generally produces false intelligence. False intelligences like, say, I dunno, WMDs and Al Qaida in Iraq.

But more than the fact that it was done, I am ashamed that nearly half of the American public thinks it was a good idea. They are siding with Dick Cheney. They are fools and don't care about what our country stands for. We must defeat them. My dad was an interrogator for the US Army in World War II. We didn't do this then, and I think it's pretty safe to say we were facing a more formidable foe. And as stated above, it doesn't freaking work and is against both international laws and our own.

The clearest summary I have come across regarding how and why this happened was published today by Andrew Sullivan. Check it out here. There is some speculation on his part, but all of it based on facts that are crystal clear. It sums up the whole dirty business. The quick, two-sentence summary: We tortured people so that they would tell us that Iraq and Al Qaida were connected so that we could invade, even though they were lying so that we would stop torturing them. How many US lives has this torture saved so far? 4,294 killed, over 30,000 wounded.

That's all for now. I promise to shut up about this until the evildoers are brought to justice. Please read Sullivan's post. It's the clearest summary you're going to find. I owe y'all some reports on vacations I took with Belu and a Big Red Ultimate update. The next posting will be parrots and puppies. I swear.

My Letter to the Trib and Other recent writings

2009-04-30T07:33:00.004-03:00

As previously promised, there's more in the hopper for Reed's Ramblings, but it's not ready yet. Still percolating or whatever. while you wait for me to get off my duff and put something together 'round these parts. But that doesn't mean I haven't been writing anything. The Book continues and weekend writing sabbatical to Córdoba was very successful. Belu and I are about to take another, this time to Cariló.

I don't know who has been following the "debate" on torture in the US. Personally, I find it abhorrent that so many people are defending the practice, largely because they want to support Republicans who aren't even in office anymore. Either that or they're mind-numbingly naive. Anyway, I wrote a letter to the Chicago Tribune in response to this editorial. They decided to print it. Well, some of it anyway. You can find it here. I've already e-mailed some of you, but I repeat the urge to everyone to please write your local paper and federal reps. Here was entire letter I sent:

In your editorial, "Torture and Truth," you assert many questionable claims and quote people involved in this scandal as if they are unbiased experts without any note of their potential culpability. Ironic given the title of the column. Saying "this needs to be put in the rearview mirror, and soon" implies that we should just keep on walking as per Peggy Noonan's recent infamous statement. Quotes attributed to Dick Cheney, Michael Hayden, and Michael Mukasey are given without qualification, but you reference "policies that may or may not have crossed the line into the torture of suspects."

There is an obvious slant to this reporting in order to make the case that we have done nothing out of bounds. Yet this is in clear conflict with reality. The US government admits that many detainees have died in our custody, often in violent ways. Frankly, I'm disgusted with this type of reporting. By promoting the right wing desire to "move forward", you are complicit with the lawyers who drew up these opinions. A clear majority of Americans want prosecution or an investigation. They are right.

Finally, you say "cruel and brutal treatment [could] be routine for American interrogators, because it often yields valuable intelligence." Nearly all intelligence experts completely disagree with this statement. They say you end up with more faulty intelligence than anything else. I would be surprised if the Tribune Editorial Board didn't know this. How many American lives has the faulty "intelligence" used to justify the Iraq war saved? -4,274 and still climbing higher. And this version of journalism was complicit in that disaster as well.

On the internets, I haven't exactly been active, but there's plenty to peruse. Over at Fighting the Youth, Brad and I reviewed...
Slumdog Millionaire
The Wrestler
Watchmen

Then at Road Games:
A trip to an Argentine soccer match (kinda long, but fun!)
A Boca vs River overview (short and sweet)

...check ya soon, y'alls!

Jetskis to Brazil

2009-04-24T15:55:00.000-03:00

When I first took this gig, I figured it would provide the opportunity to travel for work all around Latin America. Of course the financial crisis made quick work of such notions, but thanks to an urgent situation with one of our biggest clients, I was afforded the opportunity to fly to São Paulo to participate. Unfortunately for me, such a journey required obtaining a visa (thanks Dubya!). This process brought to mind the incredibly high stress levels I endured when originally moving to Argentina. Four times I had to go to the embassy and deal with the same dour-faced clerk. He insisted that it would take three business days to obtain the visa (after costing me one due to his general unhelpfulness). Luckily, my compañero Juan Carlos was able to sway him, using the fact that we were literally talking about a million dollars worth of Brazilian business. On the last day of March, and more embassy delays, I packed in about fifteen minutes and was on my way.

Ever since seeing City of God, I have found Portuguese completely impenetrable. When someone speaks Portuguese, it sounds like a language from another planet. I can't even hear the sounds, let alone the words. Belu happens to be fluent and tried to give me some lessons in advance of the trip, but they only served to confuse me all the more. Spanish is my "other language", so by default that's what I spoke. But many people understood English better. I was consistently confused as to which one to use, but not nearly as confused as the people listening to me. Thank goodness my company had taken care of nearly all the arrangements.

This is the bus line we took. It's pronounced "Happy-doo." Really? Really.

The Onion's "Our Dumb World" describes Brazil as, "People at their most beautiful, humanity at its ugliest: 'Boasting some of the sexiest people every to be stabbed repeatedly at night, Brazil is home to perhaps the most attractive victims of carjacking, robbery, and violent assault in the world.'" That's certainly an exaggeration on several fronts. São Paulo is a "thick" city. It's the fourth largest on the planet, and I found it very hard to get a feel for its character or even where I was at any point. To me, it was just an endless sprawl of buildings and traffic. Again, I wasn't a tourist and there was little time for exploring, but the sense that I was caught in an obtuse maze was always there. A couple excursions to Vila Madalena gave me the chance to see SP's version of Wicker Park, but it didn't really win me over.
Yet, there were some welcome signs of home. The power outlets and voltage are the same as in the US. I could charge everything all at once! Brazil is apparently a nation where they actually believe in recycling. Along those lines, there was also a much greater emphasis placed on general cleanliness. Everyone washed their hands before eating (there are special sinks in the company cafeteria for this!), and food preparers always used gloves and wore hats or bandanas. Also, despite what the Onion had to say, in many cases the body types resembled those from the US. More on this in a little bit. All of these things are completely the opposite of Argentina. Until this trip, I hadn't recylced a damn thing since my November excursion to Chicago. My frequent illnesses are likely due to the fact that the overall cleanliness of restaurants here are subpar to say the least.

I certainly ate well. I loaded up on mangoes as they are hard to come by in BsAs. Seafood was plentiful, a welcome development. There was a curious obsession with banana that worked really well sometimes (a delicious grilled salmon dish in my hotel) and failed miserably others (I believe I'm the only one of my friends who can say they've had a hot McDonald's Banana Pie - don't be jealous - it was rather disgusting).

The highlight of the trip was clearly that I was able to get away for a very short weekend in Guarujá, a beach town just an hour and a half away from São Paulo. Even better, Belu came up for the weekend (no visa needed for an Argentine). That meant I had a translator, tour guide, and arm candy. The bus ride passed through the lush Brazilian countryside which gave me two major thoughts. 1) It was gorgeous. The hills we climbed reminded me of my trip to Clemson, driving up over the Smoky Mountains. Belu said it was reminiscent of a rain forest she visited in New Zealand. Just beautiful. 2) They have built an incredible amount of hideous structures in that lush greenery. There is no concern for aesthetics. This was the case all over Brazil, but particularly stark in this area.
I get restless on a beach. Sitting around ain't for me. So I convinced Belu that we had to take a jetski out. It didn't take much arm-twisting. After the trip, a friend of mine claimed, "You can't ride a jetski without kind of looking like a douche," to which I said, "and yelling like one!" But really, who cares? There are few things more thrilling than trying your hardest to flip the sucker even though it's impossible. Needless to say, I can't wait to do it again.

Still, the peaceful action of eating corn on the cob followed by árroz con mariscos on the beach and washing it all down with a fresh coconut has its merits. Of course, I figured that the "scenery" would be as impressive as The Onion described. However, the real unique thing about Brazil is that its citizens have no shame about their bodies. This applies to the perfectly toned dancers at Carnival, but also to the majority of beachgoers who were far from fit. We only saw about five or six bodies worth looking at and a heckuva lot of this:

This is probably the wrongest thing I've done in the blogosphere - whatever, you're getting the full tour

Not that it bothered us. I'm sure my pale torso had people scrambling to purchase bonus sunglasses.

This coconut was rendered blind from the glare

After the brief, sunny day, it was back to São Paulo for some more work and further failed attempts at understanding Portuguese. One last story before I end this long ramble. One night I found myself briefly seated at the hotel bar next to a New Yorker who was in São Paulo on business. He had been there at least a dozen times. He'd been to Buenos Aires twice, but said he didn't like it and couldn't find any food worth eating. "I can get a better steak in New York," he declared. He was that kind of Ugly American. This is a guy who gets to travel all over South America on business and isn't taking advantage of the opportunity at all. He prefers to stay in his New York condo and "watch hour-long detective shows." Ugh. There's a verb in Spanish that doesn't really exist in English: aprovechar. It basically means to take advantage of the opportunity provided you. I love this word and wish we had something in English that could sum it up so succintly. It might be my favorte Spanish word (well, after helado, of course). I consistently feel blessed to have my time down here, and a trip to Brazil is just one example of something cool I get to do. Ron lives in NYC and thinks every other place can't measure up. He wouldn't know how to aprovechar if he sat on it. After such a successful trip, I feel lucky that I'm here, and lucky that I'm not the kind of person who would prefer to spend his time watching the TV. Now I just need to start exploring the rest of Argentina. Starting the day after I arrive from Brazil. We'll get to more aprovechando in a near-future post. Until then, tchau!

The view from the top

2009-04-10T00:18:00.007-03:00

Just a quick note here to say yes, I know I'm behind, and yes, I have a lot of stories, anecdotes, political rants, and other stuff to get to. It's all in the hopper. Work has been extremely busy as of late. But this Easter weekend, Belu and I have fled to the mountains to take some quiet time alone with me and my book. I am expecting major progress. But first, I did want to share what it looks like with all of you. Hopefully you can click and enlarge this, because it's the view from just above our cabin (it's the one just in front and to the left of that close roof you see), and it's amazing.
Coming up after I get back to Buenos Aires, time permitting:
A Real Ramble
How Glenn Beck is killing people
Jetskis to Brazil
Easter weekend in Villa General Belgrano

Finally a Real Visit

2009-04-08T04:45:00.005-03:00

Because there have been plenty of people blowing through town, it seems like I’ve hosted many friends here, but in actuality, none of my visitors had stayed with me yet. Chris had the honor of being my first houseguest, and I was determined to show him some of the local culture, flavor, and above all some fun.

He was a trooper, joining me for roughly 30 miles of death marches throughout the week and even a Big Red practice! More than anything, we ate as much as possible. Here are some of the highlights.

Right off the bat, we got the local flavor started. Chris arrived, ate some of the cake Belu baked for him, and then we scooted over to the local empanada joint. From there, we took in a fútbol match, my first. You can read about that in great detail over at Road Games. A quick nap set him up for dinner at Guido’s (pronounced gi-dohs). I don’t believe I’ve written about the place yet, but it is easily my favorite restaurant here, and the place Belu and I went on our first date. Just know that if you come and visit, you will go. There are no menus at Guido’s. You sit down and they start bringing you food. And then they just keep on bringing you more and more. They have the best pasta I’ve tasted outside of Italy, and the only tiramisu I’ve ever enjoyed. Chris, a certified paisan, gave it a very big thumbs up. From there, we braved the rain and clubbed it out at Bahrain until about 6:30 in the morning. That was met with the requisite, “why are you leaving so early?” from the locals, but we’d had enough.

Did I say "cake"? I meant two cakes. Mmmmmmm.

It's way past these guys' bedtime

A jog around Palermo Lakes to sweat out the excess booze was just what we needed. A relaxed Sunday, including a dip in the pool followed. Did I mention before that I have a pool? I’m guessing not because I never, ever have time to go there. We closed the night down with sushi libre at Azul Profundo, easily the best sushi restaurant I’ve found in town. Especially surprising since it’s all you can eat. Monday night brought an attempt at Bomba del Tiempo with the frisbee crew. BdT is a percussion extravaganza which has become so popular that we, uhhh, couldn't get in. So it became poker and beer night at Mike-n-Kyla's instead. Which is probably even better!

No Bomba para vos

I should note briefly that we ate helado nearly every day. This was wholly at my insistence, but I don’t think Chris was hard to convince. Needless to say, the ice cream here is out of this world. More to come on this topic very soon. Choripán, on the other hand has been talked about here previously. I wasn’t about to let Chris come to town without risking his personal health at one of these parkside vendors. Chris tried to test out whether his fluency in Italian would pay any dividends during the week, and at times it definitely did. The Choripán, man, however was pretty much impossible for me. Then, when he found out we were from the states, he only wanted to talk about Las Vegas. I have no idea what the obsession is with that place here, but it’s ubiquitous. Anyway, the greasy mess hit the spot. After fending off the rattiest looking pigeons I’ve ever seen during our meal, we were on our way to more fun in the sun, hitting the Florida shopping district and eating more helado.

The Choriman

Tell me you're not drooling...

...cause I sure was...

...and Chris, too!

Having a guest also got me out to a Tango show for the first time in six and a half years. My previous experience was a work outing in 2002 at La Ventana. The only thing I really remember from that show was a segment with three old guys going crazy on accordions – perfectly in sync and popping with energy. We hit up Esquina Homero Manzi, a show/venue named after a renowned Tango lyricist. The food was great. The band, fine. The singers, good. The dancers, amazing. Three couples, each featuring a gorgeous female, dominated the night. And frankly, I think made Chris miss his girlfriend all the more.

Quite a show!

Unfortunately, a week didn't leave us enough time to explore the countryside, but we managed a day trip to Tigre. We took the Tren de la Costa, which allows you to stop and gawk at the gigantic homes and Rio de la Plata views along the way. Far from truly having our act together, we tried to hit the art museum, but it was closed for renovations. Still beautiful from the outside, though. Having a peaceful day away from the smog and bustle of the city was a welcome change. A leisurely lunch on a deck overlooking the river was well earned, and the relaxing day in the sun was just what we needed.

Chris poses in front of his future summer home

Not sure why I'm standing at attention. But it's good for the back I suppose.

Canoe in Spanish is canoa. But these are for rowing.

Maybe the best helado I've had yet. Though this is the "before" photo

It was a beautifully tranquil day

With only one night left, we decided to live it up a bit and eat dinner at the Hyatt Park Hotel. An old mansion originally owned by the Duhau family who apparently fled the country due to some sort of mafia involvement. What a palace they left behind. I really don't think I've ever been in a place this nice. The meal was nothing to write home about, but we stayed for hours, admiring the everything from the building, the fine collection of local artwork they house, and of course, more helado. I'll just let the photos do the talking...

Belu in her element

Taking pictures with the flash felt disruptive and still aren't doing the place justice anyway

They have a meat and cheese cabinet

Just one of many extravagant salas

Just one of many extravagant pieces of art

Extravagant helado

I'm not even going to joke that this is anybody's future home

In all, it was far too short a visit, though we felt like we got a month's worth of stuff done in one week. Well, at least a month's worth of meals! Now. Who's next???

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

2009-03-17T11:16:00.002-03:00

So I'm a little Irish. And here in BA, it's not quite the big deal that it is in Chicago. Apparently there's a parade planned (designed to be perfectly timed with my commute home), and maybe some green beer can be had around town. But for now, let's sing and weep!

Fulfilling Requests

2009-03-14T10:46:00.003-02:00

Some folks requested a photo of Belu from Valentine's Day. So here it is!I told you my camera phone is not very capable. Also, this artsy shot was done between two glasses of the aforementioned goodass malbec.

Valentimes

2009-03-08T17:16:00.007-02:00

You may have noticed that I've been derelict in my blogging duties. Today's the first chance to catch up. Content may be less at a time, but that's likely for the best.

As mentioned in the previous post, I finally have a couch. I received it on Valentine's Day, but not without some confusion. Belu decided to play cute, and misled me into thinking they were delivering the couch without my having paid the majority of the money owed. This would make no sense in the US, let alone here. But I assumed she had worked some kind of magic. Nopes, she was just finding a way to keep me in the house, instead of off trying to pay up to the furniture store. So when I saw balloons in our video phone (yeah, this apartment has a video phone for security's sake - it's the most rockstar-ish thing about me!), I knew something was up.

Globos de veracidad

Turns out, she had ordered a surprise breakfast to be delivered. I tried to eat it all, but with everything from medialunas to dulce de leche desserts to tea and coffee included, I only plowed my way through about half. Needless to say, I had plenty of energy for the Big Red frisbee game.

Oreo cookies for breakfast? Okay!

Since I'm dating a porteña, I rarely make the plans all on my own. Belu knows the city as well as I know Chicago (or rather, as well as I knew Chicago - I've been here six months!). So it's often much easier for her to make the plans. But on V-day, I was going to take charge. Luckily, it's not like Chicago when every decent restaurant is booked weeks in advance because I didn't set the plan until the day before. I had a list of three options. The first was jammed, but my second choice seemed good. No reservations available, but it sounded like two of us wouldn't have to wait that long.

Unfortunately, I forgot my camera again, so all the phone-photos turned out with this kind of quality. But look, I have a magic hand!

We hopped in a cab, and I refused to tell her where we were going. But as we approached Jangada, she pointed and asked, "Is it that one?" Of course, it turned out to be the restaurant where she eats lunch twice a week. Ups. We walked in and everyone working there greeted her like they were old friends. Because, well, they kind of are. But no matter, we sat down and had a great meal. We shared a fish called dorado, which is definitely not trout or flounder or salmon, but darn tasty whatever it was. We coupled the badass dorado with a goodass malbec and had ourselves a tasty dinner, regardless of my failings as an event planner.

Check out his badass face! I know this picture looks lousy, but this was a great meal.

I asked the waitress if Valentine's Day was a big deal here. She smiled sincerely and said, "Sí, es un día especial." I don't know if I believe her, as there was little fanfare around town. But anyway, Belu and I had a great day and look forward to other imported American holidays.

Caught a bug

2009-02-15T11:35:00.007-02:00

I suppose I've never had the strongest immune system on the planet. Couple that with the fact that I often don't allow myself enough sleep, it means that I sometimes get sick a bit more often than I should. Whether any of these factors were at play about ten days ago or not, I cannot say. But I contracted some sort of stomach virus that hit me like a ton of bricks as I was coming home from work on Friday. By the time I arrived at the apartment, I was dizzy and kinda talking like this guy. A fever ensued and I spent the weekend alternating from the bed to the bathroom. On Saturday, we called for a doctor who came to the house to check me out. I definitely wonder how well my Spanish went, but Belu was here to take care of me and she did the majority of the talking. I honestly can't remember it that well. The house call cost me zero pesos. I don't think I could have made it in to a doctor's office or hospital (between the dizzyness and necessity of bathroom proximity), so I felt really lucky that the system worked in my favor. I'm feeling better, but there are still some lingering after effects (about which I am certain you do not wish to read).

When I returned to work on Monday, while eating my lunch, and mentioning the fact that I'd been sick, someone said, "Well, they found a cockroach in one of the salads that was delivered today. What did you eat on Friday?" "A salad." What ensued was a rather rapid search of all food currently being eaten at my particular table that thankfully resulted in no foreign objects. Turns out that the infiltrated salad came from another restaurant, one I don't expect we'll frequent any time soon. What's that? Yes, I believe it was alive. There are roaches all over the place here now that we're in the thick of summer. If you walk around town at night, odds are you'll see one, and maybe even crush it by accident. But one should always be watching the sidewalks here for the previously described dog poop. I finally stepped in some the other day (because I was sending a work e-mail on my phone at the time). Lucky for me, it was of the more durable variety...

Big Red keeps on rolling. On the initial day of La Liga de Ultimate, Argentina, it was deemed a good idea to dispense with the original schedule and play a triple-header with shorter games, so every team would get a chance to be part of the historic event. We started against Discosur, gave up the first point, took a lead, and then held on for a 5-4 victory. Then, against Cadillacs, after playing them relatively even, we pulled away for a good win. The stomach problems forced me to miss our management day (when we lead the drills and amistozo pickup game). Yesterday, a very hardfought battle versus Cadillacs arrived at a 12-12 tie before we notched the last two points for the 14-12 win. So... Big Red --> still undefeated! We've been having practices every Wednesday, and near the end of the last one we were overrun by a colony of local bugs. They were slightly larger than fireflies, but more like some sort of flying beetle. They either bit or scratched after landing on us, not to the point of drawing blood, but it was wholly unpleasant, nonetheless. We quickly got our butts over to the choripán stand where the smoke coming from the barbecue kept the little buggars at bay.

Big Red - Mission Accomplished on Day 1. I'm the one with the condom on his head. For protection, natch.

In other news, we have a couch! It has taken a loooong time and much effort to get the bank account situation straightened out here. Not being a citizen has its detriments. But, I finally had enough cash on hand to make a purchase (it's at least 10% cheaper if you pay cash). Check the bad boy out:A new mattress has also been purchased and will be delivered this week. Now we just need a table and chairs and we're at least in a normal home. I can't believe it's taken this long, but we're finally getting there. More on the apartment in a post to come very soon.

On Tuesday, we had a huge rainstorm, something that only happens about once a month around here. I found myself hearkening back to a rainy night during my week-long "prep visit" in July. While on the way to dinner with coworkers, I was thinking, "Wow, I'm going to live here. I need to remember this street because it seems like it's the main drag through town to get around." I'm pretty sure it was Avenida Córdoba, but I have only rarely found myself using that route. That's life in a big city, I suppose. But it does remind me that there is so much more exploration yet to come. My daily schedule is really busy, but I must make time for the parts of the city I haven't seen yet. Lucky for me, I'm not leaving any time soon.

Update a Comin

2009-02-12T13:24:00.002-02:00

I've been working on a couple new postings here, but things are very busy with work right now. So, just to tide you over, here's a shot that Mike took at a recent Big Red practice:

Shuffle Your Life

2009-02-02T19:31:00.010-02:00

This went out over the Facebook today, so I decided to give it a whack. But I'm posting here and not there, just because...

1. put the I-tunes on shuffle
2. use it to answer the questions in order
3. hit “next”
4. try not to cheat

1. How am I feeling today?
Razz – Kings of Leon
I don't know what that word means, but the song is a real burner. Wooh!

2. How far will I get in life?
I’m From Further North Than You – The Wedding Present
So, pretty far then? Note - I believe this title is applicable relative to every single person I have met in Buenos Aires except for Randall and Mike.

3. What is my best friend’s theme song?
Powerful Hankerin’- fIREHOSE
Well, that's true of all my friends. The question is, which one hankers for what? The answers, in random order: Beer, Love, Womanly Affection, Cigarettes, Speed (velocity, not the drug), Everything, A Baby, Adoration

4. What was high school like?
Almost Blue – Elvis Costello
Uhhhh, take out the almost?

5. How will today be?
Opus 40 – Mercury Rev
The day's almost over anyway.

6. What is in store for me this weekend?
Too Much of Anything – The Who
I can't wait!

7. What is the best thing about me?
Listening to Otis Redding at Home During Christmas – Okkervil River
Most accurate answer from the I-tunes yet.

8. What song describes my parents?
Circle the Fringes – The Gutter Twins
I have no idea what that is supposed to mean. I keep thinking of a rug they have that has fringes/tassles/whatevers that have never, ever been circled. Maybe it's due for circling?

9. How is my life going?
Good Old Funky Music – The Meters
Awwwwww riiiighhht.

10. What song will they play at my funeral?
Revolution Year Zero - The Poster Children
I like that this is the most upbeat song yet.

11. How does the world see me?
I’m a Man – Bo Diddley
Thank goodness.

12. What do my friends think of me?
Soulin’- J.J. Cale
Awwww... you people are too kind.

13. Do people secretly think I’m good looking?
Boplicity – Miles Davis
Since the song has no words and the title makes no sense, I assume that this is a solid "no." But one or two have said I'm good looking un-secretly.

14. How can I make myself happy?
I Wish I was a Motown Star – The Clifford Gilberto Rhythm Combination
Still looking for a remotely decent karaoke bar here. Actually, still looking for any karaoke bar here.

15. What should I do with my life?
I Can Only Give You Everything – The Troggs
You know, this is sadly apropos.

16. What is some good advice?
Tame - Pixies
Only advice-like line in the song: "fall on your face in those bad shoes". I think my I-tunes just insulted my wardrobe. Wouldn't be the first time.

17. Will I get married?
3XO - Pinback
Three times?!? Or is that three times zero? I'm so confused.

18. Where will I go in life?
You Can’t Judge a Book By Its Cover – Bo Diddley
Bo knows life.

19. Will I Have Kids?
I Get So Excited – The Equals
Hmmmm, quite the positive response from the I-tunes here. Unless that means I'm excited about not having kids. I guess it depends if I get married three times, eh?

20. What is my current theme song?
Ciao! - Lush
Chau, chau. Besos!

People, feel free to add your own results of this grand experiment in the comments section!!!