The Semester Begins

     So before I pick up where I left off, I would like to direct your attention to the top of the page where the description of my blog says that these are my random “but hopefully frequent” recordings... feel free to laugh at that. I had a good chuckle myself when I realized that “hopefully frequent” had turned into about once a month, if that! What can you do…
     Anyway, back to the “important” stuff. In my last blog, I mentioned that my new semester of classes had started while my parents were here. Unlike the intensive Spanish courses I took during January and February, this is more like a normal college semester in which I get to choose from a list of a decent variety of courses. For requirements, and just my general preferences, I chose Latin American Literature, Latin American History, History of Argentine Economics, Ethics, and Tango which consists of one class that tells the culture and history and the other class that actually teaches the dance. Of course, all these classes are conducted entirely in Spanish. So here’s the rundown on how all of those are going:

• My literature class I’m actually enjoying a lot. The professor is very reasonable in her expectations and knows how to teach students that still don’t speak Spanish all that well, and we’ve read some really some really good stuff that I actually enjoy reading.

• Latin American History…well, I think this is the epitome of a boring lecture course, plus the professor basically only talks about the economic factors, so I still feel like I know almost nothing about Latin American History.

• History of Argentine Economics - I thought I was going to enjoy the class a lot because the professor has a very charismatic personality, but it turns out her teaching skills are rather lacking. It doesn’t help that I didn’t know anything about econ to begin with, so I’m hoping to just make it through the class.

• Ethics is an extremely interesting class. We’ve studied different schools of thought about what “ethics” has meant throughout history, which has been really informative in that I can see in those schools the roots of many worldviews that are still present today. Plus, thanks to my background at Covenant and Grace, I’ve enjoyed analyzing all these from a Christian worldview.

• Tango…well, tango has been interesting. In the actual classroom part, we’ve had three different professors. I really enjoyed the first one and learned a ton from him, but the guy we have now is our dance teacher and he doesn’t know as much about the history or how to teach it. As for actually dancing, I’m having a complete blast, which is surprising because I had never before been interested in really learning how to dance. The only problem is the girl to guy ratio is at best 3:1, so most of the class is spent waiting around to see if a guy will ask me to dance and hoping that whoever that guy is at least somewhat know what he’s doing.

     The interesting thing about this semester has been my schedule. The classes only meet once a week for two hours, I don’t ever have class before 11 a.m. and on Mondays I don’t have class until 5 p.m. Plus, unless we have to make up a class from a national holiday, I never have class on Fridays. I’ve enjoyed this schedule in some respects because, if I actually get up on time, it gives me time to run in the morning, enjoy a longer time for devos while I eat breakfast (it’s amazing how much of a difference it makes when I take time to focus on God before I start my day!) and some days get some homework done before I head to the university. The only thing that I don’t like about the schedule is that it’s too easy to oversleep since I don’t have to get up for class, but then I just feel like I’ve wasted over half my day.

     Another thing I like about this schedule is that on some days I get to eat lunch or the ”merienda” with Ana and Cacho, and I’ve really enjoyed the time I’ve had to talk to them and here stories about their childhood, Argentine traditions, and a myriad of other topics that come up at meal time. One day, I had had a really good talk with Ana after breakfast, and she asked if she could write down my birthday to remember to tell me happy birthday in the years to come, then said, “Because, you know, you are leaving such a beautiful footprint on my heart!” That totally made my day and made me so happy to have been given the opportunity to share these months with this sweet old woman that has become like another grandma to me! Then, the other day, Cacho just basically said out of the blue, “You know, when you leave, we’re definitely going to miss having you around here.” Again, it totally warmed my heart!

     Another change that has come with this semester is that all of us American girls have started meeting for “Life Groups” with Abi, one of the young women who helps out a lot with the youth group. Every Thursday we grab a snack to eat after class and then share in studying the Word and a time of prayer. At first, I thought I wouldn’t like being in a group with only us “gringas”, but it’s actually been a blessing and a really cool time we get to share together.

     The last big change with the start of the semester is that our times to play soccer have now been moved inside on a hard floor (about the size of a basketball court) and we’ve started playing with more of the guys from the youth group. Playing in small spaces has been interesting since my favorite thing about soccer is being able to run and I practically don’t have room to do that, but it’s still been fun. One funny story is the first time I played, someone had passed me the ball and I lost control of it so had to change directions, inadvertently making my defender slip and fall on his butt, then (again by accident) I nutmegged the goalie for my first goal of the game. The guys were all impressed but I just laughed to myself knowing I hadn’t done anything on purpose! Another funny fact is that someone told me is that one of the older guys that comes to play goalie once played rugby for the All Blacks, a team from New Zealand that is one of the most famous in the world! The last funny story from “futbol” was after the second time we played, this time only with Anne and I (two Grace soccer players) with a bunch of guys, and one of them looked at me and said, “Jugaste mal hoy.” (You played poorly today.) I just blinked and was like, “Um, okay,” then just had to laugh because of how nonchalantly he said it…oh gotta love the Argentine directness!

Before I end, I’ll just give you all snippets of a few other humorous or interesting happenings from these weeks:

• Not leaving youth group until around five a.m. one Saturday and getting to Bailey’s house where we would spend the “night” only to find her host dad already leaving for work.

• Going to Recoleta (a part of town with a famous and huge cemetery), walking the wrong way, not really caring because we got some good coffee, arriving 10 minutes before the cemetery was going to close, seeing a somewhat creepy “living statue” and ending the day with some delicious “facturas” (pastries).

• Going to a birthday party of one of the youth group guys, meeting friends who aren’t from the church who wanted to practice English, and getting in a discussion about religion with an atheist (who after a million complicated arguments on our part, got stopped dead in his tracks by the question “Do you believe in good and evil?”).

• Playing the game “Telephone” in Spanish with the youth group.

• Making s’mores with Anne’s host mom (something she had always wanted to do but never could because she could never find marshmallows until my parents brought them from the States).

• Making brownies for the birthday of Felipe (a guy from youth group) which we thought didn’t turn out amazing but he absolutely loved them.

• Going to see Mati (yet another youth group guy) play in his band which is called Remake (yes, in English).

• Having a youth group lock-in from 8 pm to 8 am, which made us laugh because that’s only a few hours longer than normal.

• Ana teaching me how to make tortilla (no, not for burritos – here "tortilla" is an egg-based dish similar to an omelet) and a little bit about how to make empanadas!!

• Walking down the street and seeing a bus driving sitting at a red light, head on the wheel, taking a nap.

Well, in the legendary words of Porky the Pig, “That’s All, Folks!”…at least until next time. We can all hope that next time won’t be a month away, but hey, let’s not kid ourselves… :)

The Parents Arrive! Part Deux

Hello again! Well, picking up where I left off, Thursday we took a ferry across Rio de la Plata to Colonia, Uruguay which has a small but very interesting old district that looks pretty much like it did in colonial times. We spent an incredibly relaxing day taking pictures, wandering the quiet streets, and enjoying the sunshine. For lunch, we headed to a hole-in-the-wall burger joint that served delicious burgers with just about anything on them – including ham, fried eggs, and corn! Then, we rented some janky old bikes and trekked about 20 minutes outside of town to a small beach that none of the tourists go to. (Way to go Mom with your website of random but very useful Colonia info!) I think I counted a total of five people on the beach – it was perfect. Mom and I took a leisurely walk along the beach and snapped about a hundred pictures, then we headed back to catch our ferry home. Oh, did I mention this ferry was like a wannabe cruise ship, complete with a TVs, a restaurant, and a duty-free shop? Guess I wasn’t expecting that.

Friday I had to head downtown to complete part of my visa process, but we made the best of it by buying some souvenirs in the nearby sidewalk markets. It was great to see the look on the vendors’ faces when I interrogated them in Spanish about their products after they heard us speaking in English and had expected us to be clueless tourists! That night we went out to eat with Rogelio and Ana and shared these huge platters of food that included steak, sausage, fried bananas, “pancetta” (pork belly, I think), a delicious warm apple sauce, and super-thin cut fries. While we gorged ourselves on that, we experienced the humorous struggle to communicate that involved Ana and Rogelio speaking a few words in English, Mom speaking a decent amount of Spanish, and me doing a whole lot of my best shot at interpreting. Again, I discovered I’m not too good at interpreting, as I realized when I got so confused that I turned to Mom and spewed off a couple of sentences in Spanish. Oops. It was definitely a fun night, but I was thoroughly confused the whole time as I felt that my two languages, two worlds, even the two different “versions” of me were colliding and felt like I couldn’t remember who or where I was.

The next day I didn’t see much of my parents as I went to the wedding of Flor and Sebi (a couple in the youth group). It was a beautiful outdoor wedding, and I noticed a couple of differences from weddings I have been to before. First, the ceremony probably started at least an hour late. Second, there weren’t enough seats for everyone, so pretty much the whole youth group just stood in the back. Once the ceremony itself was over, instead of a receiving line, the couple just went to the back and people mobbed around them to congratulate them with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. For the reception, instead of having a buffet line or a seated served meal, the caterers simply brought out platter after platter of food – starting with three different kinds of empanadas, then “choripan” (a sandwich with delicious sausage), next “lomito” sandwiches (delicious steak sandwiches), and ice cream. In addition to all that, they had a dessert table with everything from brownies to lemon meringue pie, then a few other things I wouldn’t know how to name. Throughout the reception, the couple was taking a lot of their wedding pictures and invited most of the guests to take pictures with them. Finally, there was the traditional throwing of the bouquet but also a basket with a bunch of ribbons coming out, and all the single women grabbed a ribbon. All but one ribbon was attached to a piece of candy, but the winner was the woman who pulled out a ribbon with a ring attached.

When I got back from the wedding, Mom and Dad proudly told me that they had gone out exploring on their own and even ordered dinner by themselves! I was quite proud of them. From Saturday on, our experience went winding down. Sunday, they visited both the churches I go to and in between we went out to eat to get some delicious pizza. After the evening service, we randomly stopped to get helado since Mom had quickly become addicted to it in her short days here. (Particularly dulce de leche helado. Dad’s drug of choice was the white chocolate helado.) Monday I had to head to my first class of my new semester, but it didn’t start until five so we were able to head downtown to pick up something and, of course, stop for some more helado. Tuesday was there last day here, and we started the last day right by buying facturas for the first time during their stay. Dad finished his last tasty pastry, looked at me and asked, “Why didn’t we do this every morning??” That afternoon I also had class, but I scurried back to ride with them in the taxi to the airport. After an all-too-quick goodbye, they took off and I headed back my house.

Although the time seemed way too short and it made me miss them even more when they left, I am SO glad that my parents were able to come. I loved all the amazing things we saw and experienced, but the best part was honestly the hours of conversations we spent talking about anything and everything. I also feel like they now understand me when I’m talking to them over Skype because for a short while they got a taste of my life here. It was such a blessing!! Besides that, Mom’s a great photographer, so I definitely used her to take a ton of pictures I’d been wanting to take for a while!

The Parent's Arrive! Part I

After finishing my last day of my second summer course, I hurried out of the university because I had places to go and people to see. Well, just one place – a hotel – and two people – my parents!! Mom and Dad came to visit for just under two weeks and it was absolutely amazing to see them. The first night they were here, we went to the “Despedida de Solteros” (~Farewell to singleness) of Flor and Sebi, a couple in the youth group. It was definitely an interesting experience, like a couple’s bridal shower for the whole church. It involved a worship time, some hilarious games, a message about marriage, a slideshow of pics, and pizza. The whole time Flor and Sebi were dressed as toddlers (I’m still not sure why) complete with adult-sized diapers. That first day with the parental made me realize two things: 1) it’s actually really hard to interpret and switch from English to Spanish; 2) I’ve grown quite accustomed to some of the things that were really strange to me when I first came. To my mom, however, these things were still very surprising, as evidenced by the quantity of questions she sent my way: “You travel over an hour to go to church? The actual event still hasn’t started? They’re not going to eat until 11 p.m.? Little kids are still out this late? There are people dining out at 1 a.m.? etc.” I have to hand it to them, though: both Mom and Dad went with the flow and did their best to do everything the Argentine way.

Saturday, the very next day, Mom, Dad, Vic, and I hopped on a train downtown and, after a short picnic in the plaza, boarded an overnight micro and prepared for the 15-16 hour bus ride up to Iguazu Falls. Once we got there, after a false start or two, we gathered enough information to get to the national park that (in my opinion) contains the most beautiful waterfalls in the world! None of them are the size of Niagara Falls, but there are over 250 individual falls of all sizes one after another. We took a little “jungle train” out to the biggest one and when we arrived we could do nothing but stand amazed. I don’t know that I have ever seen a better simultaneous representation of God’s power and His beauty. The roar of the falls and the sheer magnitude or water rushing down from the biggest falls took me aback while at the same moment the tiny trickling stream beside me held me captive with the intricate water patterns that formed around the rocks and plants that impeded its progress. It was simply incredible. We spent the rest of the day traversing the paths of the park seeing waterfall after waterfall, taking hundreds of pictures in a futile attempt to capture its majesty. In addition to the falls, we also saw a decent variety of wildlife – lizards, infinite amounts of vibrant butterflies, even some audacious raccoon-like creatures, one of which straight snatched an apple out of the hand of a surprised tourist.

After a full day of adventure, we checked into our hotel where Bailey (another roommate from Grace) and her family were awaiting us. (They had come to bring Bailey to for her time studying abroad but decided to do some traveling first.) We ate a delicious dinner of Argentine beef and potatoes, helado and fruit, then called it a day and rested our weary and sun burnt bodies. The next day we were going to head back to the park before catching our micro back to Buenos Aires, but Vic, Mom, Dad, and I were tired enough we decided to chill at the hotel – definitely the right decision. The hotel was actually a series of cabins tucked back in the forest/jungle, so my parents and I explored some of the paths which had a swinging bridge, a climbing wall, vines to swing on, and a rope ladder – needless to say I had some fun with that :) Then, we spent a few hours chilling at the sweet pool, reading, doing devos, chatting, and getting new tan lines (okay, burn lines). It was a much-needed day of relaxation before embarking on our second 16-hour bus ride in 3 days. [Side note: on the micro, I helped Bailey’s sister with her Algebra II homework and realized how much I miss math – go ahead, call me a nerd.]

Tuesday afternoon when we got back, I gave parentals a short tour of my university and we hit up a Bavarian restaurant that night (I’m not really sure why Bavarian in Buenos Aires, but the food was good). The next day, Wednesday, I did my best to show them some of the sights and sounds of downtown Buenos Aires, starting with a short stop at the historic Casa Rosada and Plaza de Mayo.

Next, we headed to La Boca, where we decided to eat at an outdoor restaurant and see a small show of tango and some other folk dances. The steak (smothered in a champignon sauce) that Dad and I ate might very well be one of the tastiest things I have ever eaten in my life!! The show was also very entertaining…that is, until one of the dancers started walking out into the crowd to invite women to come dance with him. I wasn’t going to have anything to do with it, but Mom, by accident, pointed to me and the man came over and made me get up on stage with him! After about 2 ½ minutes of missteps, blunders, and plenty of blushing, the man ended with one final dip and let me escape back to my seat. Of course, my parents were cracking up laughing and my mom assured me she had PLENTY of pictures to prove that most embarrassing experience.

Once we left Boca, we headed to our final stop of the day – La Plaza de San Martin – to let Mom take some pictures of the sweet eucalyptus trees that abound there. While there, we also stumbled across the filming of a TV show or movie, so we decided we sit and watch the action for a bit. Unfortunately, there was no action, just a lot of people standing and waiting for the directions and a couple people fixing the actresses’ costumes. After about 15 minutes of nothing, I thanked God I’m going into education and not the movie business, and we headed back to the hotel and called it a day.

Well folks, I shall end Part 1 here so that you can catch your breath before reading Part II. Hasta luego!

It's been awhile Part Dos

Welcome back to part two of my last blog: youth group and random cultural stuff. Let us begin:


Youth Group (and stuff with people from the youth group)

During this month, the youth group suffered through three birthdays – and by that I mean we had an absolute blast! First was our friend Cande’s birthday which was a huge ordeal – I’d guess around 50 people – and we ate some incredible food: homemade fried empanadas (my new favorite), tongue sandwiches (actually not too bad), homemade pizza, and a cake that Cande herself made that was layered with dulce de leche and might or might not be the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted. The night was great and included writing and performing a birthday song for Cande, having pyramid-building competitions amongst the guys and the girls, and me having a really good conversation with some of the older youth (of course, I later realized I was the only individual sitting with three couples: one seriously dating, one engaged, and one married – I knew I should have brought JR along!) The next set of birthdays belonged to Vic and our friend Ana. At youth group we made them a cake and sang happy birthday and Cande and I attacked them with shaving cream  The next night, we were going to go out to eat at a Pizza Libre (all you can eat pizza for $15 pesos) but the cashier had a seizure right when we walked in, so that didn’t really work out. Instead we went to Burger King (have I mentioned the fast-food restaurants are really nice here?) and later to the mall to play pool.

Later on, Vic and I enjoyed a day of coffee, mate, medialunas, and chatting with Abi and Flor (two of the older “girls” in the youth group, who are now both married). Getting there was a complete mess, though. It was pouring rain; we missed one bus stop which made us go a couple miles out of our way; we had to walk in the rain, flooded streets, and mud for about an hour and a half before realizing that we were walking the wrong direction; and to add insult to injury, a colectivo driving past completely drenched us as it splashed through the puddle. In the end, I didn’t even want to talk to the girls at first because I was so wet, tired, and frustrated, but it was definitely worth it – we got to hear how both of them met/started dating their husbands, they shared their passions and talents for God, and asked us what our dreams were for the future.

Our last big adventure before Vic left came when we went to Boca with the Bachinis. (Boca is a famous neighborhood where many immigrants arrived; also contains the home field of my favored soccer team here). It was fun to see the colorful buildings, watch couples dancing tango and milongas (folk dances) in the small shows the restaurants offer, and admire all the Boca soccer gear. We were enjoying ourselves thoroughly and decided to take a picture of Krystal and Anne with their faces in a poster board of a couple dancing the tango. Bad idea. What we didn’t see was the tiny, 2x2 inch sign that said “Pictures $5 pesos”. As we walked away, this dude comes out of nowhere and starts demanding his money. We were clueless but Pablo starts arguing with the guy saying no way are we going to pay. I offer to erase the picture but by this point Pablo finds out the guy isn’t even Argentine and then he really gets ticked. He starts yelling stuff about this being his country and the guy threatens to call the police, to which Pablo responded, “Go ahead, see if I care!” I don’t know what happened next but somehow he let us guy but not without sending a threatening gesture Pablo’s way…oh boy. That night, though, things got better when Marcela made nine homemade pizzas for seven people – and they were the most delicious pizzas I have ever tasted in my life! I think I might kidnap her and have her open up a pizzeria in the U.S. Oh, but did I mentioned we didn’t get done eating dinner until one in the morning? I’m definitely in Argentina…

On that note, a small side comment: have I mentioned that going to the movies here might mean the movie starting at midnight? We went to a movie with a couple of guys, got out at 1 or 2 in the morning, and they laughed at us for being tired because it was “early”!

Random Cultural Stuff

The first tale I shall share involves a wedding. I went to my first ever Argentine wedding with Ana and Vic (didn’t even know the couple – awkward) and it was actually quite similar to most of the weddings I’ve seen back in the U.S. The first difference was that they didn’t have a wedding part. Apparently that’s not common at all here. The second is that they had a time when the couple kneeled and the parents came up to pray over them and give a blessing of sorts. The last is how much they talk about children, right there in the ceremony! In most U.S. weddings I’ve been to, the pastors wouldn’t dare assume that the couple would have kids and they certainly wouldn’t make that one of the main sermon points. Not so here! Basically the second point of the pastor’s message was about the family the couple would start and how they should raise their kids in the Lord. Oh, the other funny thing was that the ring bearer came buzzing in driving a little electric kiddie car, which was absolutely adorable! (I don’t think that’s typical Argentina, though). The funniest part, though, was after the ceremony. I call it “Miguel strikes again.” You all remember Miguel, right? The guy who unabashedly tried to set us up with his sons when he first met Vic and I? Well, he cornered us after the wedding and starts on a ten-minute discourse on how beautiful marriage is and how it can bring people from two different “worlds” together, and even goes so far as to say how Argentines respect marriage more and have less divorce than Americans (Dang, I think to myself, he must really be desperate for his sons to marry some gringas). Then he continues with, “Yeah, and it’s great how those two worlds can come together and create a wonderful new world to raise children in!” That’s when the light bulb came on – Grandchildren! That’s what he wants. The poor man is desperate for grandchildren. Unfortunately for poor Miguel, Vic and I didn’t even talk to his sons before booking it out of Dodge and escaping the wedding.

The next cultural bit involves an explanation I should have given long ago. Yoly (Vic and now Bailey’s sort of host mom/sister) invited us over for mate and a time to chat with Suzy, a young woman who went to Grace but the married an Argentine and came back to live in Buenos Aires. Well, the conversation was great getting to hear about her love story and just her experience in general that we could definitely relate to. But, what I want to explain is mate. Mate (pronounced mah’-tay) is the most popular and traditional drink here and it consists of some fairly bitter herbs and almost boiling water (and sugar for some). An individual buys a special cup (also called a mate I believe) and a straw-looking filter thing (bombilla) and fills the cup about half-way full with the dry herb. Then, they pour very hot water to fill it the rest of the way up, and each person drinking mate together takes a turn sipping it down before they add water and pass it down the line. A lot of people drink mate together basically as an excuse to chat and spend time together. The first time I tried it back in the States I absolutely hated it, but I’m proud to say I have grown somewhat fond of it and even prefer it amargo now (“bitter” a.k.a. without sugar). I’m going to try to buy some to bring back, so unless it gets confiscated since they think it’s marijuana, feel free to stop buy and try some with me!

My last anecdote is a short and very humorous story. After spending the night with Vic a few weeks ago, I had just finished eating breakfast and was heading off to class when Norma asked me “Estás engordando?” (“Are you gaining weight?” also translated, “Are you getting fat?”) Since I’m not gaining weight, I wasn’t offended by the question, but it cracked me up how direct people are here! I’m definitely going to have to re-learn tact when I get back to the States.

Well, that’s all for now, folks! Hopefully before too long I’ll get around to writing what I like to call “The parents arrive!”

It's been awhile...

Well, I now have about a month’s worth of blogging to make up, and that won’t even include the time I spent with my parents when they visited. So, fasten your seatbelts because I’m going to run through the past few weeks in category form, so at least you can read what you want. Let us begin:


Classes: The month of February brought a second intensive Spanish course with a brand new professor – one that we weren’t terribly fond of. Don’t get me wrong, she was very nice and tried extremely hard to improve the class and make it more interesting for us. Unfortunately, she lacked one very important talent: the ability to teach. Her explanations made us more confused; she loaded on the homework over stuff she had never taught, we never reviewed, and we never learned from; and to teach a new word, she either went on a 20 minute long rabbit trail of an explanation or (the worst option possible) she simply told us in English. At one point we went to the program director to ask her to help us out and she talked to the prof, so at least after that it was somewhat bearable. Needless to say, we found other ways to entertain ourselves. For instance, Vic and I wrote pages of notes about what was going on in our lives, what God was teaching us, etc., and we wrote it all in Spanish practicing the verbs we had learned. In the end, that might have been the most valuable part of our class…

Sports: In addition to classes, the past month brought us more opportunities to play futbol. The first time we played, we got run off our normal “field” by a swarm of mosquitoes and ended up renting a small indoor field for about $7 pesos apiece. [Side story: when we were leaving the park – that is, fleeing the mosquitoes – a group of guys playing soccer literally stopped in their tracks to stare at us and yell at us to join their game. One yelled to Vic, “Che, en la campera negra, te hago marco personal!” (Hey, you in the black jacket, I’ll man mark you!) After all the unoriginal pick up lines we had received, we at least gave that guy points for incorporating futbol.] The last time we played before Vic left, we played girls vs. guys with the guys adding a couple of 12 year-old kids who wanted to play. At last, as if it were a parting gift for Vic, the girls won! And Vic even scored the winning goal! Beyond soccer, I also got the chance to watch the Colts in the Superbowl. But, despite the fact that I donned my Manning jersey, put on war paint, and screamed my head off, the Colts couldn’t pull out the win. What’s worse, Pablo still brings it up (a month later) and mocks me for it. The last sport of the month was basketball. We “played” with some of the youth group guys but it was extremely different than a pickup game in the States. Only one of the guys really knew how to play, and the rest…well let’s just say they dribbled with their heads down and shot with two hands as if making a chest pass – two cardinal sins one would see only in elementary schools back in good ole Indiana. The most painful part was watching the enormous, over 6’6” “Marcelito” shoot from 10 feet out when he had a wide-open layup! If he had stood on his tiptoes, he practically could have dunked it! Anyway, we still had a blast, but I now know how Argentine’s must feel when they watch most Americans try to play futbol.

Hmm, well it seems that I am running out of time and energy for the night, so you’ll have to tune in next time for the next two chapters entitled “Youth Group” and “Random Culture Stuff”.

The Micro Fiasco

Well, folks, it’s been a while….I’ll start with dedicating a whole blog to the tiring and crazy adventure that was our trip back from the beach. Here’s how it begins: we’re traveling back by ourselves in the micro (a bus that travels in between cities) and it’s the first time we 've taken that particular form of transportation. As a result, we don’t know that there is more than one micro station in Buenos Aires for this particular bus (and no one from the church told us…thank you high context culture), so, we get off a stop early. In our defense, it was absolutely pouring rain so we easily mistook the place we stopped for another street we knew. When we give the driver our tickets and ask for our bags, he gives us a weird look (now we know why) but doesn’t say a word warning us, “Hey, you’re at the wrong place.” He just asks us where we were from and smiled when we said we were from the U.S. Thanks Mr. Bus Driver Man.


After the micro leaves, we look around a bit more and realize we don’t recognize anything. We ask a kind old woman how to get to Maipu (the street where we were supposed to get off), and she says, “Well, you’re about 30-40 minutes from there.” “Oh, walking?” “No, driving.” Awesome. We call one of the host dads and he simply recommends a colectivo. That’s great…except it’s ten o’clock at night, pouring rain, and we are in a neighborhood we’ve never been to. As we begin walking, we realize…we’re not on the best side of town. Victoria looks at all of -five gringas with suitcases and white faces - and says, “I feel like I have a sign on my back saying, ‘I’m a gringa, please kill me.’“ Fortunately, no one took us up on that unspoken offer (as you probably gathered from the fact that I’m writing this blog). Anyway, we get to the street that’s supposed to have the colectivo and at first we can’t find the stop. Once we find it, we see one coming and jump on, only for the bus driver to tell us, “No, this bus doesn’t go as far as you want to go.” Wonderful.

We hop back off, feeling the pound of the pouring rain and the weight of the looks from the men standing on the sidewalk. Finally, we get on the bus we need and breathe a partial sigh of relief….until we hear Krystal say, “Shoot…where’s my cell phone? I just had it.” I try calling it and right about then two guys behind us start chuckling and hop of the colectivo sharing secret smirks. Yup, Krystal’s phone had been stolen. Well, we make it to our stop and have to get off and walk to another colectivo. Once we get off the second colectivo, Elisabeth was going to use my cell phone to call her host dad and tell him when to meet her at her bus stop. That’s when I discover, my phone doesn’t have credit. Splendid. Fortunately, we’re standing right next to a locutorio, a place where you can use the internet or make phone calls. She makes the call and gets on the colectivo. And (finally) we know where we are. All that’s left is for Vic and me to walk another fifteen minutes under the pouring rain. (Oh, did I mention that my rolling suitcase had a broken handle, so I had to awkwardly drag/lug the thing everywhere we went?)

We finally make it to Vic’s house and crash for the night, but I have to get up early the next morning to take a bus back to my house, shower, and walk to the university in time to start our first day of our second set of classes. I actually surprise myself and am heading out the door on time – when I get a call from Vic saying she had been so out of it the night before she had set her alarm for U.S. time instead of Argentina time. Needless to say, she was going to be a bit late. I walk to the bus stop to meet her, slipping and almost falling several times because the rain on the ridiculously smooth tiled sidewalks makes for a great skating rink. Finally, after waiting several minutes, Vic comes walking up apologizing. Apparently she had been told the wrong stop for the bus plus had fallen down on the treacherously slick sidewalk. We speed walk to the university only to realize – we don’t know where our class is. We search one floor, go to an office to ask, and finally slide into class about 10 minutes late. All in all, not bad for the crazy day last few days we had experienced.

During those crazy couple of days, all I could think about was how much I wished the day would just end and I could be home in my warm dry bed. Looking back, though, I know God had a lesson in it for me (a lesson I’m still definitely learning). Right before we had gotten off our micro and had started our crazy, tiring escapade, I had passed the hours of the bus ride spending some awesome time with God, feeling close to Him, and praying about being able to trust Him. But as soon as I got off and saw that things were going wrong, I stopped praying and just got angry, frustrated, and irritable. I know now that God had given me a clear opportunity to put into action what I had prayed about, but I refused. I’m realizing that oftentimes when I pray for more faith, what I am actually hoping for is an easier set of circumstances. But that’s not what we’ve been promised as Christians. We haven’t been promised a God who grants endless sunny days, but we have been promised One who is ever faithful through the storm. And that’s the truth in which I find rest.

La Lucila del Mar

Well folks, I return to you from the beach a bit tanner and with as many stories as the grains of sand in my suitcase – okay, not quite, but I do have a lot of stories! Our trip to the beach began early Saturday morning when we boarded a micro (bus) with the rest of the church members and headed out to La Lucila del Mar as the beach was called. The five days that followed fell into a bit of a routine: get up around 8:15 for breakfast (toast and coffee/tea); go to the group devotional time and have small group discussion; suit up and head out to the beach to swim/wave jump/body surf; come back for lunch at one; chill for a bit, read, or take a nap before heading back to the beach; intermittently play soccer with guys and swim; go back to shower and eat dinner; give and receive a small gift to/from your “Amigo Invisible” (invisible friend, kind of like secret Santa); go to the worship and teaching time; head out for helado or other random exploits; come back and get ready for bed but really stay up talking with the girls until I got too tired. It was a bit tiring but an absolute blast and a great opportunity to form much deeper relationships with the people from the church!

Once again, playing futbol turned out to be quite the humorous experience as every time we played, people stopped and stared because girls never play futbol here. It was also hilarious to see how the guys would not stop playing even when the tide grew and started carrying away the “goal posts” (flip flops). And just because the ball went in the sea did not mean it was out of bounds. Rather, players from opposing teams would splash into the water and try to chip the ball out and back into play. The best game was on the last day before we had to leave when we were the only ones on the beach because it was pouring rain. Even though the guys sometimes would take it easy on us, this game included full-out slide tackling, jumping for headers, sliding saves to prevent goals, and a back and forth score that ended with the guys barely beating us by one goal (10-9). It was pretty intense. Another futbol favorite was the game “afuera” that we taught them that goes like this: everyone gathers in a circle and group juggles until the ball has been struck 10 times. After the tenth time, whoever is closest can grab the ball out of the air then throw it at a person nearby to get them out. The best round was when Pablo and Diego were the only ones left and Pablo literally chased Diego a quarter mile down the beach and a quarter mile back before throwing the ball as both collapsed into the sand. They might be just a little competitive.

Meal times were also a big favorite, but it was funny because we ate a ton of food that we would eat in the U.S. too – pizza, hotdogs, meat loaf, mashed potatoes, spaghetti with meat sauce, toast, watermelon, etc. We did have a couple of traditional meals the first being milanesa which is a very thin cut of beef breaded, seasoned and baked (similar to tenderloin in the U.S.). The other more traditional meal was steak on the grill that we put on French bread and topped with lettuce, cucumbers, tomatoes, and boiled eggs (apparently it’s fairly common here to top sandwiches, burgers, even pizza with boiled or fried eggs). The best part of meal time, though, was definitely the atmosphere. Before the meals, there was usually so much talking and laughter that they would have to drop a pot on the ground to get everyone’s attention to pray. When the food was brought out (we all were on teams that took turns serving and cleaning up), it was not unusual to hear shouts of “Bravo!” or chants of “our cooks are the best!” Chanting was rather common – when someone said or did something funny or unusual, another person would start clapping or pounding the table and chanting something and the rest would pick it up - for instance, Krystal was the recipient of the chant “Se puso colorada!” (She’s blushing, she’s blushing!) Also, when we exchanged gifts for “Amigos Invisibles”, some of the hilarious notes were read aloud and accompanied by shouts and chants. My favorite was when Adrian (the pastor) received a note from someone expressing their undying love for him, and Maria (his wife) jumped up feigning rage pounded the table while indignantly demanding to know who had written the note. Turns out the note was from one of his guy friends who was having a blast watching the chaos caused by his word choice.

The nighttimes also brought some of our favorite experiences. One night we were walking around with the whole group – adults, youth, and kids, and we saw the street corner that was closed off every night so people could dance in the street. We heard some oldies playing – everything from Elvis to Elvis’s Argentine counterpart Sandro – so we naturally followed the adults down the street to start our own little dance party. After whipping out our best old school moves (which weren’t very good) and making a train, we were surprised to see these little kids running at us with squirt bottles of foam – and we got blasted! (Mind you, it’s about one in the morning and these kids are maybe 8 years old – welcome to Argentina.) Overall, it was a hilarious night of goofy jumping, dancing, and singing in the street.

Although we thought that night couldn’t be topped, the night before we left is one I’ll remember for a long time. First, we headed to the beach and enjoyed seeing the reflection of the moon on the crashing waves. Then, like the mischievous youngsters we are, we played a game of “catch” – only with a tennis ball covered with Off! and set ablaze (don’t worry, Mom, it doesn’t actually burn you if you catch it). We got a little nervous when Adrian (the pastor) walked over, but much to our surprise, he just yelled, “Pass it over here!” and took part in our little pyro party! Next, we started teaching some of the guys the dance moves our soccer team had made up to Miley Cyrus’s “Party in the U.S.A”. Since they didn’t know what they were actually singing or dancing to, the guys gladly joined in. Then, when we wanted to film it, we were going to invite one of our host moms to jump in…and almost all of the adults followed! In the end, we had almost an entire Argentine church singing and doing a choreographed dance to “Party in the U.S.A”! It was seriously one of the most hilarious things I’ve ever seen in my life! Later, one of our friends commented to us, “You guys are just breaking all the stereotypes of this church.” “Why’s that?” we asked. “They’ve never done anything like this!!” But the night wasn’t done there. Apparently, the guys felt the need to do something manly, so they made up a ritual chant/dance that consisted of them grunted the words, “Qué como? Qué como? Un pancho. Un pancho. Con mostaza. Con mostaza. Un pancho en la playa. HUH!!” (What should I eat? A hot dog. With mustard. A hot dog on the beach. HUH!) After the locura (craziness) settled down, I ended the night sitting with a group of the adults who were sipping mate and singing praise songs on the beach. Like I said, I won’t be forgetting this night anytime soon.

The next day, the other girls went to the beach to film a few more scenes for our “Party in the U.S.A.” music video that we would be sending to “Grace Got Talent” (it’s on Facebook if you care to see it). Much to our surprise, the guys pulled out a guitar and started serenading us with a love song they had rewritten to talk about how they would miss playing soccer with us, so would we please forget about the bus home and just stay two more days? That was definitely a first. Then, when it came time for us to head to the micro (bus) station, we were surprised to find the entire youth group following us. They accompanied us all the way to the station, then waited until our bus came then stood on the corner and waved goodbye as we pulled away! This is definitely a special group of people and I really feel so blessed to be a part of it.

The thread that tied the whole week together was the theme we talked about during our daily devotional and worship times – the community, companionship, and communion of the church. It was great to be reminded again that our Christian life cannot be complete without fellowshipping and growing with other believers, rejoicing and suffering with them, sharing everything for the common good of God’s kingdom. The most amazing thing, though, was seeing how the church lived that out each and every day of our trip. I noticed it in simple things – everyone was assigned to a task so that we could share the work of cooking, cleaning, etc.; not just one person was in charge, but the leadership was shared based on who could best serve to lead a specific activity; when we went out for helado, everyone shared what they had and no one kept it all for themselves; when a few of us left for the bus station, the whole group left the beach to see us off. Simply put, it’s a family. I know that no church is perfect and I know that this church has its drama. But I also know that I am learning a lot about the community aspect of faith from this culture and from the awesome people we been blessed to spend time with. I pray that I may continue growing in this and may learn even more about what it means to truly be part of the body of Christ.