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.

A Pool Party, a Downtown Adventure, and a...FINAL

Well folks, it's been a while since my last update, but I thought I should get another one in before I leave for the beach tomorrow - yes, the beach! We're going to the beach with the church here for the next five days! But more on that...well, more on that when I've actually gone to the beach.

But let's pick up where I left off...last week ended well with Thursday and Friday being a couple of chill days with not too much to do other than class and homework. Saturday, the youth group had an event that was kind of like a scavenger hunt/Amazing Race except we weren't hunting for anything and it wasn't a race. Let me explain. Basically, we walked several blocks from the church then on our way back we had to do something ridiculous every couple of blocks: do 100 crunches on the sidewalk, pick up and carry two ants, sing a song to a storeowner, have bat races (spin around a bat 5 times then try to run), take pictures with five strangers, wrap group members in toilet paper and carry them down the street, and climb a tree and scream like Tarzan (which Krystal and I did with glee). Let me just say, it was absolutely hilarious and Elisabeth Balasa definitely got some good blackmail material with her pictures and videos.

That night, we had a short youth group time with a message, then we went over to one of the guys' houses to swim and grill out some hamburgers. Once again I experienced the high context culture when the leaders just said, "Oh, lets meet at Marcos's house at ten, see you there," assuming everyone automatically knew where his house was and how to get there. Once we asked for directions, they were very helpful, but responded with statements that conveyed "Oh yeah, I guess that does make sense that you need help getting there." When we arrived, I almost felt like I was back in the States - burgers on the grill, bottles of CocaCola on the table, people splashing and yelling in the pool - the only difference was that little thing people like to call a "language".

Overall, we had an absolute blast that night!! With some of the girls, we played the "Ha, haha, hahaha" game which involves laying our heads on each others' stomachs, making a laughing noise, and trying not to laugh for real. We never once made it through without laughing but it was absolutely hilarious and a fun way to connect with the girls. Then, the guys took it upon themselves to make sure everyone enjoyed the pool - a.k.a. they tossed in everyone standing outside, even if those people were in their streetclothes - like I was. Yup, no matter what hemisphere you're in, guys will still be guys.

Sunday, Vic came to church with me in the morning, and after the service we encountered another humorous point of the culture. Miguel, a friend of Ana and Cacho's, was talking to us for a bit saying we could come over for dinner if we wanted and that he would love to help if we ever needed anything. But, about two minutes into the conversation, he asked, "So, do you have boyfriends?" I said yes but Vic said nope, so about a minute later he unashamedly left and brought back his oldest son, Federico. Let me just say, people here aren't well know for their subtlety. I thought he would be happy, but he had seemed a little disappointed when I said I had a boyfriend...then he came back with his second son, Nicolas, and I understood - two sons, two American girls - it had seemed like a perfect equation to him! Guess I spoiled that one. As it turns out, though, the brothers seemed extremely nice and sincere, and we chatted with them and one of their friends for several minutes. It's fun to be getting to know more people at that church in addition to the people I know from the other youth group.

Sunday night, the five girls returned to the Bachini's to watch the second River and Boca game (this time accompanied by pizza). Boca lost again, but the good news was that I'm definitely learning how to scream like an Argentine and get offended when people talk smack about my team! I suppose I'm not really Argentine yet, though: I was still happy even after Boca lost because I had learned that the Colts are going to the Superbowl. I guess some things won't ever change!

The past week of classes was fairly routine, with one humorous interruption: one day, a group of Koreans toured the university and burst into our class using all two of their Spanish phrases and all three of their English sentences. We were almost over our surprise at this when, as they were leaving, one said, "Can we take picture of the beautiful face?" referring to the whole class. Laughing, we posed as two or three of them whipped out huge cameras and started snapping so many pictures they could have rivaled any member of the poparrazzi stalking Michael Jackson! In that moment, I thanked God that I am not famous.

Other than Korean comedic relief, class time and afternoons this week were consumed with studying for the final exam which we took Thursday. I am pleased to report that I fared well in my first foreign final and ended up with a good final grade! After we came today to receive our grades, several of the students and two professors went out to a little restaurant/bakery and shared all kinds of delectable sandwiches, cakes, and candies. It was a lot of fun to just chat with our prof about Argentina and the U.S. and get to know her a little more as a person. Once we finished there, Anne, Krystal, and I took a train downtown to walk around and see some sights. We saw the Torre Inglesa (a gift from Great Britain that looks a lot like Big Ben), the Obelisko (which looks a lot like the Washington Monument), and the Casa Rosada (which is the presidential palace). Despite the heat, it was a nice relaxing day just strolling around, snapping pictures of historic sites, and hearing random men profess their love to us or tell us of our exquisite beauty (awkward). My favorite line was a guy who said in rapid succession, "Hello, how are you, I'm fine, I love you," then burst out laughing. Maybe one day we'll get used to the attention that comes from just having slightly lighter skin and hair, but it's still a little strange to Anne and I.

Well, before I sign off and head off to the beach, I want to share a couple things God is teaching me through the culture and that were particularly evident during youth group time Saturday. First, when we were doing the scavenger hunt, it wasn't for time and we still haven't found out which team one. To me, that's crazy because I know I would have been sprinting around the city and waiting with bated breath to hear the winner announced. But not them. To them, the time spent chatting with their friends along the way was much more important than time or a prize, and there was no need to hurry. The second situation is similar: even though most everyone knows we won't start youth groups events on time (we started an hour and a half late on Saturday) a lot of people still come on time. Why? Because their friends are there and the hour spent talking with their friends before youth group or in between the events at youth group is a big reason why they come - not necessarily the event.

Now for me, this has been both enlightening and difficult. I am very much a schedule-oriented person, and I am almost always trying to get stuff done as fast as possible. As a result, there have been times I have been very impatient with the youth group because I'm feeling like I need to be doing something productive with my time while they are content to sit and talk. But, it's been so good experience this because God is showing me that the relationships within the body of Christ are immensely more important than any certain event or task we set out to accomplish. Instead of living a life of haste and always being ruled by a clock, I can now start to organize my life based more on spending quality time with others and enjoying being able to share life with them. Now my prayer is that I could find a way to bring that changed attitude back with me and that it wouldn't get overwhelmed by a schedule- and time-oriented culture.

Two Types of Football and a Day of Fun

Well, the last few days have certainly been filled with fun and humor here. But for now I'll just stick to one day again - Wednesday  - when we decided to play American football with Pablo and teach him a few things about the game. We left the university, took two colectivos, and walked several blocks to the beautiful Sarmiento park...then we promptly found out it was closed to the general public. Pablo turned to us with a stricken look on his face, lifted his hands to cover his eyes, and exclaimed, "Todos los dias de mi vida vengo aca y el parque esta abierta!" (Every single day of my life that I've come here and the park has been open!) The Grace girls weren't too concerned, but apparently this was a big deal to Pablo, who throughout the rest of the day would burst into the refrain, "Every day of my life!" as he lamented anew the tragic situation. He said it so many times that now, when any of us girls says the word, "Todos" we all chime in to finish it with "los dias de mi vida". Another saying that has stuck is that when someone asks the time, we all say "mosquito", this due to the fact that Elisabeth Balasa had been asked the time right after she had been bit by the insect, so the conversation sounded like, "What time is it?" "Mosquito."

Back to Wednesday - we walked around and eventually found a small park where we could toss the football and play "500" (and found out that the equivalent of "Jackpot" is "Gordo de Navidad" - literally "the fat man of Christmas"). As we were walking, though, we kept laughing at the whistles, comments, and blown kisses from the men who drive past. We're starting to get accustomed to the fact that, just because we have slightly lighter hair and skin (I would be almost considered a blonde here), we will get more attention than we had ever hoped for. Pablo, though, decided to make a joke of it, and when one particularly enamored trucker yelled a compliment at us, Pablo lifted his hands and shouted back, "Gracias! Thank you, I know I'm beautiful." We all cracked up and went along with it: "Pablo, gosh, can't you get them to stop whistling at you?" "Sorry, I just can't help the fact that they love me!" The most hilarious moment, though, was when we were walking on our own and a trucker yelled at the top of his lungs, in perfect English, mind you, "I LOVE YOU!" to all five of us girls. Since we were all expecting Spanish, it took us to few seconds to register the words before we burst out laughing.

After another couple of colectivos and a short walk, we arrived at Chinin, Pablo's favorite heladeria (ice cream shop). Once again, we all effused gratitude to the dairy gods that worked there for providind us with such luscious creations - okay that's a little extreme, and I promise I'm not a pagan, but it was ridiculously delicious. We then returned to Pablo's house where we would watch a soccer game later that night. But first, since we had some time to kill, we looked up a song our professor had played for us in class - Resistire (I will resist), and we started singing to it at the top of our longs. Okay, for you to understand this song, think of a male rock band singing "I Will Survive" but with more rebellious lyrics and a Rocky Balboa "I will take on anyone and everyone" sort of attitude. With that kind of material, we started to get into the song a little bit - and by a little I mean we belted it out at the top of our lungs! Pablo provided us with instruments - spoons for microphones and drumsticks and an electric guitar I pretended to play with my best air band ability. While we were filming our little ditty, German (Pablo's dad) walked into the house and stood in shock to see several gringas shouting out a famous Argentine song. When we finished, Pablo said he would never forget that moment for the rest of his life.

Then, it was time for the game. There are two futbol teams in Buenos Aires - Boca Juniors and River Plate - and it is probably one of the biggest rivalries world wide. The Bachini's were rooting for Boca, but all three Grace soccer girls decided to be Boca fans - partly just to fight with Pablo, but partly because we liked their style of possession futbol better. Despite the fact that Boca lost, it was a great first South American futbol experience - complete with trash talking, complaining to the officials (aka the TV), and screaming "GOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAL!!" at the top of one's lungs and running around the house when the favored team scores. Oh man, it's great to be in a country that appreciates this sport.

Though the time we spent with the Bachini's was simple - watching a futbol game, eating empanadas, and chatting, it was such a blessing to experience the Latin American hospitality and just to feel like we truly have friends here now. It's amazing that, despite continued difficulties with the language and very different cultural backgrounds, God can still bring people together to form relationships, friendships, and families. I have to say, I'm really starting to like it here :)

Forming Friendships and Futbol in the Park

Hola otra vez from Buenos Aires! I have much to say but little time and less energy, so I'll try to make this a "short version" blog...then again, I try that every time and you've seen how well that worked out :)

Let me begin with some highlights from the end of last week. Thursday we went to Anne's home (another Grace student) and chilled in the pool for the afternoon. I would say we swam, but this pool was about the size of a hot tub in the States, so we mostly just sat there and chatted. It was still a great, relaxing afternoon.

Friday after my merienda (usually tea or mate and crackers around 5 pm), Ana and I played SkipBo, and we both won one game. I think it made her quite happy that we tied rather than someone losing - she's so sweet! That night at dinner, she said, "I'd like to invite you to go out for ice cream with me," and I accepted faster than you can say dulce de leche! It was really great to just sit and talk for about an hour - we chatted about movies, vacations, friends, and many other things as I savored my Dulce de Leche and Swiss Chocolate helado. (In case you don't know what dulce de leche is, it's kind of like caramel except that dulce de leche is to caramel what the ocean is to the puddle I stepped in on the way to class. It's kind of delectable.) Anyway, the sweetest part of the night was when I said "Thank you" to Ana for the helado and she said, "No, thank you. You are such great company and it makes me so happy to have someone to go out with. My husband doesn't really like going out, and since my son moved to the U.S., I don't really have anyone to get ice cream with or to just go out and be around people. I'm so glad you're here!" Let me just say that made my night! Here I thought she was just being nice and buying me helado, but in reality just eating ice cream with her was an opportunity God had given me to show her love!

Saturday also brought a very sweet comment from Ana, but let me give you the context first. That morning, I went with Cacho and Ana to the house of a woman whose husband had recently passed away. I didn't really say much because I never know what to say to a person who is grieving. Plus, they started talking about pensions, retirement, and lots of other complicated and legal things that I don't understand in English! Still, I think just the fact that I went meant something to both the woman and the Basalos. As we were leaving, though, I offered to carry a bag for Ana, and she turned to her friend and said, "She is just great. Hosting her for six months is like having the daughter I never had!" That was so great to hear, because I have been so worried about what they think of me, and I keep wondering if I've offended them or if they don't like me. But just through Ana's few words,  I was reminded that God definitely has me in their home for a reason, and I pray that He will accomplish in and through me what He desires for this time and place.

That brings me to youth group Saturday. This Saturday involved small group time, worship, a message, a crazy sandwich competition, makeshift baseball with a Coke bottle (we started that :) and several rounds of Uno that lasted until about two in the morning. The novelty that night was the sandwich making competition, and most of the teams made sandwiches in the shape of something - a cow, Sid the Sloth, Sponge Bob, a house, even a human foot with a flip flop! I was thoroughly impressed. But since we (the Grace girls) had no idea what the competition was actually about, we decided to throw in a twist and make ice cream sandwiches! They thought we had made it up, but we assured them ice cream sandwiches really do exist in the U.S. Pablo (Elisabeth Balasa's host brother) loved them so much he made us promise to make them when we watch the Superbowl at his house. Plus, the craziness of our sandwiches won us the title of "Most Original" and a liter and a half of Coke. The only way it could have been better was if we had had a working freezer...our ice cream sandwiches were melted messes by the time they were judged, but the youth group still loved them!

Beyond the ice cream competition, though, the night brought several little blessings: going to small group with the girls and hearing something God had taught each one through His Word that week; praising God in Spanish and finally having lyrics on a screen so I could better understand and better worship; hearing a great message about the importance of not just reading Scripture but doing what it says (a message accompanied, of course, by a futbol analogy); and feeling more and more a part of the group by continuing to make relationships and spend time with people I hadn't met the previous weeks. I really love this group, and I hope I get to spend plenty more time with them!

Sunday was incredible as well, despite the fact that I only got three hours of sleep Saturday night :/ After some mate cocido and facturas, I was good to go for church. The worship time was incredible and totally Spirit-filled, and the sermon was a great reminder that we are part of a spiritual kingdom, and that we are to "Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God." (Col 3) Then, after the sermon, one of the pastors asked for those who wanted renewal from the Holy Spirit to stand, then asked the people around them to pray for them. Cacho, Ana, and their friend Ilse all stood and we prayed together as the pastor also led in asking God to pour out His Spirit afresh on this church. It was incredible and I'm so glad to be going to a church that takes seriously seeking after the Lord and being filled by His Spirit!

Monday was a fairly typical day of classes, dinner with the family, and watching an Argentine soap opera with Ana. (and here I thought our soap operas were dramatic!) Yesterday, on the other hand, was a less than typical day because after classes we went with Pablo to a park to play some futbol (soccer for you Yankis) and it was an absolute blast! We started out playing with Pablo and six girls (four of the Gracies, Pablo's sister Ivana, and Allison, a girl from our class who plays for Stanford), and before we began he said, "Don't be surprised if you get an audience. You don't ever see girls playing futbol here, so people might stop and stare." He wasn't kidding. Within the first five minutes, we had probably about ten people watching (some discreetly from a backyard about fifty feet away), and every single person who walked past did a double take when they saw us playing. As Pablo explained later, many Argentines have a machista (male chauvinist) attitude toward futbol, so it really is rare to see girls who play.

After each team had put a few goals through the arco (which consisted of our backpacks laying on the ground), some younger guys started to join the game. Little by little a few more people joined, and we had a decent-sized game going. (This made Pablo a little nervous because - playing protector again - he didn't want any of us to get hurt or any of the guys to say anything innappropriate to us. But in the end there weren't any problems.) I was pleasantly surprised that the guys still passed to us a decent amount, despite the fact that we are females. But needless to say, these guys could trick our socks off like none other - even the kid who was half my size and maybe 9 years old. It seriously looked like they had the ball on the string and they were just pulling it around and changing directions at their slightest whim. Plus, they could put spin on the ball like I've never seen before! As Pablo told me later, though, he liked our style of play better. He said, "Those guys will do a million tricks but never actually go anywhere with the ball. But your style of play is lindo (~pretty) because you have lots of little quick passes and good ball movement that you share among your team." I thought that quite a big compliment coming from an Argentine, and I hope we made Coach Voss proud. Overall, it was an absolute blast and we all thoroughly enjoyed a chance to play a little futbol in the park South American style!

As I mentioned briefly, Allison (one of the girls from our class) played with us, and she spoke Spanish with us almost the whole time! We've been getting a lot more opportunities to interact with the other students even though at times that has meant speaking some English. We ate lunch with another girl from the U.S. one day last week, and we've eaten lunch a couple of times with Roberta, a girl from Germany. Roberta even showed a little interest in our church here, but she leaves at the end of the month and plans to be traveling the rest of the weekends :( But it's been cool to see that God has answered our prayers about wanting to have more interaction with the other students, and I hope He continues to give us opportunities to further build those relationships.

Before I go, I want to tell you a few cultural things I've picked up on during my time here. First, they always wear shoes in the house. Krystal mentioned that part of the reason for this was an old wives tale that you could get electrocuted if you opened the refrigerator while barefoot. Also, when eating bread at dinner, you leave the piece of bread on the table instead of putting it on your plate. Here, stop signs are treated more as gentle suggestions to slow down or maybe just be slightly aware that there is an intersection. Also, we almost always have fruit for dessert after meals, which I am a big fan of! I'm not a fan of the fact that here, it's not fairly culturally acceptable to leave your dog's waste on the sidewalk for any unsuspecting pedestrian to discover - gross! What's also funny is noting a couple things that aren't different here - like Ana telling Cacho to slow down because he drives too fast, using some of the same phrases I've heard from many wives in the U.S. :) Or the fact that watching a TV show like Candid Camera or Punk'd is funny in any language!

Overall, the past few days have been amazing, and though I still have "those days", I'm feeling more settled in and I'm loving the relationships that I've been building here. And as I go from day to day, I'm trying to keep in mind the words of a praise song we sang at youth group - that every day we can look to tomorrow with hope because we know God will be with us and all that truly matters is that He will be faithful to us and continue to grow us as we walk with Him.