Early Sunday morning
It was not my intention to wake up early this Sunday morning. I just did. I just don´t like. Though since I couldn´t immediately fall back asleep, here I am in my preferred (24 hour) internet cafe, typing away.
Raul, it´s more the speaker of German than German language in general. German can be a very guttural spoken language, in its execution. However, there are certain German men that have a certain timbre, and that is what I find sexy. One of the German men at my residence loves to hear women speak French, and he´s always pleased when I speak to the proprietress (French is our common language), and he makes comments that he would like to hear the [French] Swiss woman and I speak in French. We have not obliged him. For my part, I do not prefer to speak in French to her (and I have not done so), as my French is adequate, but not strong, and I´m sure that for her it would be like speaking with a primary school child.
There is such a sense of community in the residence, and I love it. For instance, last night I was feeling very frustrated and upset about my current lack of Spanish. [As a side note, I intentionally listen to the conversations of others in the residence, which are in Spanish, in an attempt to understand and become accustomed to it. It is helping and my word count is increasing every day, but is taking a great deal of energy and is very draining. Immersion is the best way to learn.]. Some of the others were going to dinner and to a movie, and I´d declined going. After being asked again, I ended up going, and having a nice time. There is a fellow from Holland, and he empathizes with my situation. When he was 15, he went to France on an exchange program and did not speak any French when he arrived. He made a point to speak mostly in English for much of the dinner, or at least when I was part of the conversation (there were six of us). My frustration was not something I brought up in conversation with anyone -- he asked me about this on his own volition. I was very touched by his perception and effort. It made my emotions last night a bit easier to handle. I do not expect those around me to speak English if they know the language. I think that is rude behavior and I do everything in my power to not be a Rude American and to instead try to break that stereotype.
Yesterday, I went to the cemetery in the Recoleta district. This is where Evita is buried, though I didn´t see her grave. I was only there for a short while before the cemetery was closing and I had to leave. I took some nice photos (one in particular is stunning). I intend on returning to the cemetery so I can look around some more and take more photos.
It may be interesting to know that I rather enjoy visiting cemeteries. I took a class called the Anthropology of Death while in college, and one of the topics we studied was funerary art and how different cultures memorialize their dead. I have found amazing funerary art many places in the world, and I´m always surprised that countries that do not have much disposable income will spend a fortune on their family grave site. Prague, for example. Their economy has not been strong recently (if ever), yet I found a tiny cemetery near where I stayed and it had a great deal of statuary and gravestone art. Granted, the graves were generally for an entire family, so it was not that they were dishing out a lot of money for each family member. So, back to Recoleta. The graves are above ground in crypts. Some crypts have stairways that go below ground. Other crypts will display the coffin(s) of those entombed. I should say that this cemetery is one for the wealthy. It was controversial that Evita was buried there (she is no longer on display in her glass coffin, as someone tried to steal her a few years ago. Now, she is nine *meters* underground.). Juan Peron is not buried there.
Oh, and I ended up going to dinner with several people from the residence on Friday night. The restaurant had an Argentian folk music group, and they were excellent. Afterwards, a few of us went on to a club that features Cuban salsa music, and they, too, had a live band. I absolutely love Cuban salsa music, and was ecstatic to hear some live. The club was packed. Argentine salsa dancing has different body movement than what I´ve learned. However, I was watching couples dance and the moves are the same as what I know. Something to do another night.
I do not know what today holds for me. I would like to go on another long walk (the food is heavy here and the portions are large...). Today is Mother´s Day, and many places are closed on Sundays, so my understanding is that there is not a great deal of options. I do not mind. I will happily walk and rest today.
Raul, it´s more the speaker of German than German language in general. German can be a very guttural spoken language, in its execution. However, there are certain German men that have a certain timbre, and that is what I find sexy. One of the German men at my residence loves to hear women speak French, and he´s always pleased when I speak to the proprietress (French is our common language), and he makes comments that he would like to hear the [French] Swiss woman and I speak in French. We have not obliged him. For my part, I do not prefer to speak in French to her (and I have not done so), as my French is adequate, but not strong, and I´m sure that for her it would be like speaking with a primary school child.
There is such a sense of community in the residence, and I love it. For instance, last night I was feeling very frustrated and upset about my current lack of Spanish. [As a side note, I intentionally listen to the conversations of others in the residence, which are in Spanish, in an attempt to understand and become accustomed to it. It is helping and my word count is increasing every day, but is taking a great deal of energy and is very draining. Immersion is the best way to learn.]. Some of the others were going to dinner and to a movie, and I´d declined going. After being asked again, I ended up going, and having a nice time. There is a fellow from Holland, and he empathizes with my situation. When he was 15, he went to France on an exchange program and did not speak any French when he arrived. He made a point to speak mostly in English for much of the dinner, or at least when I was part of the conversation (there were six of us). My frustration was not something I brought up in conversation with anyone -- he asked me about this on his own volition. I was very touched by his perception and effort. It made my emotions last night a bit easier to handle. I do not expect those around me to speak English if they know the language. I think that is rude behavior and I do everything in my power to not be a Rude American and to instead try to break that stereotype.
Yesterday, I went to the cemetery in the Recoleta district. This is where Evita is buried, though I didn´t see her grave. I was only there for a short while before the cemetery was closing and I had to leave. I took some nice photos (one in particular is stunning). I intend on returning to the cemetery so I can look around some more and take more photos.
It may be interesting to know that I rather enjoy visiting cemeteries. I took a class called the Anthropology of Death while in college, and one of the topics we studied was funerary art and how different cultures memorialize their dead. I have found amazing funerary art many places in the world, and I´m always surprised that countries that do not have much disposable income will spend a fortune on their family grave site. Prague, for example. Their economy has not been strong recently (if ever), yet I found a tiny cemetery near where I stayed and it had a great deal of statuary and gravestone art. Granted, the graves were generally for an entire family, so it was not that they were dishing out a lot of money for each family member. So, back to Recoleta. The graves are above ground in crypts. Some crypts have stairways that go below ground. Other crypts will display the coffin(s) of those entombed. I should say that this cemetery is one for the wealthy. It was controversial that Evita was buried there (she is no longer on display in her glass coffin, as someone tried to steal her a few years ago. Now, she is nine *meters* underground.). Juan Peron is not buried there.
Oh, and I ended up going to dinner with several people from the residence on Friday night. The restaurant had an Argentian folk music group, and they were excellent. Afterwards, a few of us went on to a club that features Cuban salsa music, and they, too, had a live band. I absolutely love Cuban salsa music, and was ecstatic to hear some live. The club was packed. Argentine salsa dancing has different body movement than what I´ve learned. However, I was watching couples dance and the moves are the same as what I know. Something to do another night.
I do not know what today holds for me. I would like to go on another long walk (the food is heavy here and the portions are large...). Today is Mother´s Day, and many places are closed on Sundays, so my understanding is that there is not a great deal of options. I do not mind. I will happily walk and rest today.
posted by Shana @ 5:40 AM
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