Augustin the Argentine

I've come in contact with a number of characters over my few months here; Augustin Naif is one of the most memorable.

I met Augustin and his wife Angela at a Rotary meeting. They are both long-time members - Augustin is in his sixties and I think he was one of the founding members of the San Vicente club. He often jokes about his Santa Clause gut, but eats the choripan and cerdo anyway. Augustin is a second generation-Argentine, meaning his family came here before many other San Vicentinos. Yet Augustin can still speak a bit of German and says that his favorite music is polka - not the Hispanicized kind.

In the eighties Augustin started his own company which rents tractors to farmers. Now his son runs it - his job: show up with mate in the afternoon. He clearly takes great pride in his work - he anxiously invited to show me his factory with the same eagerness that my grandpa Moe would explain the plumbing of a New York building.

A few weeks ago, I took Augustin up on his offer. I arrived at his house in the afternoon and Angela, Augustin and I shared mate. Afterwards, I helped him prepare for that evening's asado - a pig roast for his daughter-in-law's birthday. "Let's go prepare the pig" he said. We entered his garage, and there in a little tub laid a small dead pig. "Caught by surprise" is an understatement.

Augustin laughed as I jumped back. Nevertheless, I helped Augustin carry the pig onto the table to be cut, trying my best not to look at its tiny tail poking over the side of the tub. Augustin cut sliced up the pig without any reservations; I watched from a few feet away.

Later in the afternoon he showed me around his factory, his farm and his two horses. Then around 7 we brought the pig to the grill and started cooking. Two and a half hours later, the whole family had arrived (twenty-something people in all), and the pig was ready.

Now, "pig" is one of those foods which I don't usually eat. One would assume that after seeing it the way it looked alive and then seeing little bits of meat on a platter, pork would be even less appetizing. This was not the case.

I devoured the pork. I loved every bit of it - the skin, the spices, the meat, tearing away the bones, the juice that oozed out as I stuck my fork in.

Augustin congratulated me on broadening my palette. Perhaps next time he'll successfully tempt me to eat ham. We'll see.

The Immaculate Conception of the Virgin Mary

I know Christmas isn't for another three weeks or so, but in Argentina everybody's already saying "Happy Holiday."

Today, December 8, is the Feast of the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin Mary. It's a public holiday so that means no one goes to work. It makes sense - to honor Argentina's Catholic heritage and to allow people to participate in their religious activities.

The problem with that line of reasoning is that no one is participating in religious activities today, or any day for that matter, including Christmas. They don't even know what today's holiday is for. When my host father, Ricardo, told me I couldn't take a bus today to Rafaela, he couldn't think of the name of the holiday. "Something about the Virgen Mary," he said.

So I wikipediaed it. The significance is, well, the immaculate conception of the Virgen Mary; it's a national holiday in a small handful of other very Catholic countries, many of them Latin American. I wonder if the citizens of those countries know at least the name of the festival.

Perhaps I shouldn't be so critical of Argentina. After all, America has a number of holidays for which most don't know the significance or history. Could "Memorial Day" get any vaguer? And how is it different from "Veteran's Day?" Is "Labor Day" anything more than an excuse for an asado?

The problem with Argentina's random holiday is its claim of religiosity. Why not just call it what it is - an excuse for a day off? Here are some ideas for replacements to Argentina's Feast of the Immaculate Conception that have some real relevance to Argentine culture:

Tango Day: everyone dances tango in the plaza. Terere is served for free to tired and sweaty dancers.

Irigoyen Day: to celebrate the time when Argentina had a strong economy and solid government. (Note: it was a while ago).

Gaucho Day: the entire Argentinean population must, by government law, dress in gaucho clothing and ride around on horses all day.

Becoming an Argentinean: a South American Addiction II

This morning, I found myself very tired despite having slept for a solid nine hours. "Well, of course!" I thought. "I haven't had my coffee yet."

I reached in the cabinet for a mug and pulled out the instant Nescafe mix. But the idea of drinking coffee was incredibly unappealling. The heartiness of a cup o' Joe is great in a New England winter (especially right before Period 3 Orchestra). But in Argentinean summer? Even on a cooler day like this, coffee just feels gross.

So today, for the first time, I chose mate over coffee. I have recently complemented coffee with a thermos of mate, but today I finally accepted the truth that I actually like mate better than coffee.

This presents a dilemma. Will I bring my mate and thermos to Starbucks from now on? Will I pressure my friends to drop the latte for a mate? Perhaps I'll just have to organize massive demand for a special Starbucks mate latte. (What that would be, I have no idea. But it couldn't be worse than the Starbucks "green tea.")

A South American Addiction

Part of the exchange student process is leaving behind your home life and embracing your new country as if it were your own. Facebook seemingly allows you to have both - stay up-to-date on all your old friends' lives with only thirty to sixty minutes of efficient wall-posting, messaging and Facebook stalking, a skill I have mastered. One would think that this would be a truly wonderful thing - it's like I can stay with all my old friends while still being an Argentinean.

And, for the most part, it has been a wonderful thing. Pangs of loneliness could quickly be erased by seeing a wallpost or Facebook chat from an old friend. When you throw AIM into the Internet 2.0 mix, I was talking to my friends almost as much as I did at home.

The problem was that I was only talking to them on the internet. I have seen my friends' faces maybe once or twice on Skype, but other than that, their voices have been temporarily replaced by their fonts and their appearance to the way they look in the newest Facebook pictures.

It is not only my friends who have become their Internet alternatives - I too have found that I am defined by my Facebook page. My personality is my "About Me" and my name is my screenname. My self-image comes not from the mirror, but my Facebook default. This unconscious obsession with self-definition exists to some degree in every Facebook profile, but for me it's gotten pretty intense because my Facebook page is the only thing that defines me in the U.S. right now.

My solution: a complete withdrawal from my Facebook and AIM addiction for two weeks and the deletion of all personal content on Facebook.

We'll see how that goes.

Crisis...?

For Christmas, I am writing my friend a comedic novel with the premise that oil companies hired al Qaeda to carry out the 9/11 attacks (Yeah...I have a lot of free time). I think the sequel will be that the media is causing the financial crisis. Except...could that be true?

Bear with me (no pun intended). I'm not suggesting that we've been completely fooled. There's no doubt that things are not so good. But would it be such a wild conclusion to say that the media has exaggerated the crisis?

It's easy to forget that the media is an industry and that media companies need to make a profit, too. Sensational stories sell papers - that's the basic premise of the industry. Obviously, during a crisis or at least at its outbreak, the media will make more money. During the present "crisis," don't you think that the Wall Street Journal sold a few more papers? Isn't it very possible that the New York Times Business section got a few more hits? That would make sense, wouldn't it? The more companies that fall and the more the stocks plummet, the more interesting this story gets. I think one of this week's PostSecrets sums it up best: "I'm a little excited about the financial crisis."

Everyone talks about a liberal bias in the news, but how about a pessimistic bias: How many op-eds have been written saying that the financial crisis may not be as bad as everyone says? I've read only one so far in the New York Times, shoved into the bottom corner of the Opinion page, titled "No Really, the Fundamentals of the Economy are Strong." There have got to be at least a few more economists saying the same thing. John McCain can't be that crazy.

And the headlines? They show little sense of objectivity. For example, take one of the Times' headlines today: "Officials Warn That Economy Will Remain Weak." When you read the whole article though, you'll see that the officials are warning that the economy will remain weak only for a while, and that long-term outlook is good.

The implications of an exaggerated financial crisis is a very chilling political thriller novel - the deterioration of all industry except, of course, the media. I can picture it now - a dozen old men smoking cigars in a dimly lit room laughing the Dr. Evil mwahaha.

Shake-up! the Musical just got a whole lot darker.

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/10/10/opinion/10mulligan.html?scp=68&sq=financial+system&st=nyt

Babs, Gabs and Mr. West: my Thanksgiving

While there was no turkey for me yesterday, I did have a distinctly American Thanksgiving.

FINALLY, I made it to Rosario. My Rotary counselor picked me up at around 9:30 in the morning, and we made the hour and half drive with her mother, daughter and nephew.

When we got to Rosario, we went to a few malls for an hour or so and then decided to have lunch. The fine dining establishment we chose: McDonald's. I thoroughly enjoyed my crispy honey mustard chicken wrap and french fries.

Next big adventure: I found the Kanye glasses I've been looking for the last six months!
Apparently, they're sold all over Rosario. The "Floggers" love them (it's an Argentinean fashion trend...I'll explain in another blog post).

Our main activity for the day: Go to the movie theater to see High School Musical 3! It was just like being back in America, except way more fun.

In Argentina, people know how movies like High School Musical are supposed to be watched. We were surrounded by at least two dozen pre-teen girls who screamed every time Zac Effron appeared in a tank top or had a close-up. You should have heard them when he took his shirt off. And that kiss with Gabriella? I think one of them may have fainted. At the end of the big musical numbers, they clapped and cheered. They were practically dancing to the catchier songs. Essentially: it was big fun.


On the ride home, my Rotary counselor's daughter insisted that we listen to a Barbra Streisand CD. Not the usual Christmas songs I prefer, but at least it's American.

Argentinean Falafel

For anyone who has ever tried my brittle chocolate chip or mushy peanut butter cookies, you are in for a surprise: I CAN COOK.

Sort of. Thanksgiving's tomorrow so I figured I would give my host family a taste of my home. Unfortunately, turkeys don't really exist here and stuffing is far too complicated so I settled on the all-American falafel.

There are a number of foods I've been craving since I first came to Argentina. Falafel wasn't one of them. But when I saw the box of falafel mix in the international section of Wal-Mart last week (yes, there are Wal-Marts in some Argentinean cities), I knew that I had to buy it.

The directions seemed easy enough but I was a little nervous. I'm quite good at messing just about anything up.

To my pleasant surprise, the falafel balls actually turned out very tasty! Perfectly crispy on the outside and a little mushy on the inside. I even made them all the right size! Meli tried one first and gave it the Argentinean seal of approval - "muy rico." (And I know she wasn't just trying to make me feel good because she had another). Next time I'll have to find pita, hummus, tahini, lettuce, tomato, cucumber, and perhaps even tabuli. But don't worry...I'm not getting ahead of myself.

My next cooking venture: the asado, Argentina's signature cooking style, an open barbecue with the most delicious beef and sausage. Hopefully I'll have similar success...though that's doubtful.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Nazis

Ushuaia: the last city on earth, the southern tip of the world. Stunning mountain scenery, snow, the famous red and white lighthouse, sea lions and rare Patagonian birds.

And Nazis, too.

On my first day in Ushuaia, I stopped in a store and found an awesome gift for a friend of mine (I won't say what it was because then that friend will know). Anyway, for some reason (perhaps my cheapness, which would be ironic considering the events of this story), I decided to wait to purchase the gift until the end of my stay in Ushuaia.

So it's my last couple hours in Ushuaia and I can't find that store again. I'm racing all over the main street, until finally, the end of the street at the end of the world, I find that little souvenier shop that sells the particular item I want.

Elated, I hurry in, put my 50 pesos on the counter, and in between pants say "Dame eso." The clerk kindly shows me other designs and I finally settle on what I think is the most unique option. The clerk, an older woman, puts the item in its bag and asks me where I'm from.

"Los Estados Unidos," I respond.

She opens the cash register and says, "You have a new president, right?"

"Yep," I answer with a smile on my face.

The woman then asks me when he will take office.

Now, at this point I'm thinking that, like everyone else in Argentina, this woman is tired of Republicans and President Bush and is excited about the new guy. So I pleasantly say, "January...don't worry, only a little time is left!"

She gives me a disapproving look. "I don't like him," she says.

Me: (Shocked) Why?
Her: Because he's black.
Me: (Awkward silence). Uh...
Her: Black people only care about other black people and they don't like white people.
Me: (Slightly more shocked) ...It's not like that in America.
Her: Yeah? Well when I was a little girl in Germany it was like that.

Little girl...Germany...

History lesson: what was going on in Germany when that old woman was a little girl?

Was it:

A) the fall of the Berlin Wall,
B) World War II/the Holocaust, or
C) the Germanic barbarians' invasion of Rome?

I do believe the correct answer is B.

I took the souvenier, said "gracias," and peaced the hell out of that place.

But later, I started thinking:

There aren't many racists left in the world. We just elected a half-black president, and you know it wouldn't have been possible if a number of geezers in Virginia, North Carolina, etc. hadn't died in the last decade or so. This woman is the first Nazi I've ever met, and there aren't many left. As the number of Holocaust survivors dwindles, so too does the number of Nazis. Maybe Spielberg should do a "Shoah Project" recording their thoughts, so future generations can say, "you mean, people actually didn't like other people because of their skin?" or "people doubted that a black man would be voted president?"

I'm not mourning intolerance, but it is noteworthy that one of my most interesting conversations of the trip was with an ex-Nazi.

Glacier Trekking

You know that movie Elf when Will Ferrell is walking through the Arctic to get to New York City and he passes through lots of really random winter wonderland scenes? That was basically glacier trekking on el Glacial Perrito Moreno.

We started out by walking around el Lago Argentino; the glacier begins a kilometer or so from the lake's coast. Ice fell off the glacier and into the lake, sending giant waves in every direction. The sound of the water hitting against the ice ricocheted off the mountains creating nice background music as we took pictures with our American, German, Swedish and Argentinean flags.

We then took a boat to get to the base of the glacier. We strapped the grampons and off we went. Hiking on the glacier was one of the most spectacular things I've ever done. The puddles were a bright blue and the lake below looked like jade. I was sure that I would trip within five minutes, but I was actually able to keep my balance. At one point, we had to walk over a crack in the ice that was so large I found myself hopping from one foot to the other. At another part, our path was right through a narrow mini-waterfall; my shoes were sopping wet. The trek ended with alfajores and a glass of whiskey atop Perrito Moreno with views of Lago Argentino and the mountains around it. I looked at the other hikers; they were specks compared to the glacier. It looked like one of those Romantic "Man vs. Nature" paintings. With miles of the glacier still remaining behind me, I was pretty sure that, at least in Patagonia, nature won.

Penguins and Sea Elephants

Watching Happy Feet put me in the right mood for our visit to the Magallenic penguins...but what we saw was a little different from Mumbo & Co.

First of all, the Magallenic penguins live in little holes in the sand near the beach. It's actually pretty hot where they live - not at all like the Antarctic ice. At first glance, they look a little bit like badgers curled up in the ground. But their waddling is exactly what you expect from penguins (unfortunately, none of them were tap dancing). The park we visited allowed us to get just a few feet away from the penguins; a few of them were actually living right under the wooden walkway.

From the penguins, we went to another nearby park to see sea elephants. The sea elephants could not have been a sharper contrast to the cute and cuddly penguins. These animals are pretty hideous. Their nose is a like a stout elephant trunk which grows every year. Instead of waddling, they just roll around the sand and sometimes hop into the water for a swim. Orcas sometimes come up to the beach to eat a baby sea elephant, but for better or worse, we did not see that.

Whale Watching

I've just come back from Argentinean Patagonia - what a trip! It's a long bus ride to the end of the world, but we made it all the way there, from the mountain city of Cordoba in the north to Ushuaia in Tierra del Fuego. To write about everything that happened would be tedious and boring, so instead I'll write about some highlights and funny/interesting things that happened.

Beginning with the whales.

Our first major excursion was to Peninsula Valdez, outside of the town Puerto Madryn. I wasn't expecting much, maybe a couple hours on a boat interspersed with one or two shouts of "WHALE!" five hundred yards away. Instead, we got whales about five yards away.

Up close you can appreciate just how big and powerful these animals are. In the pictures, the tail seems flimsy and flexible, but watching it slap down on the water it looked a lot more like a VERY strong muscle. Their skin is perfectly smooth except around the blowhole, and spotted white, black and gray.

I'm not sure how many whales we actually saw, but there were two that seemed to especially like us - a mother and calf. The younger whale kept doing flips, showing off its fins, while the mother drifted a little too casually next to the boat.

A fun day for everyone - including the breaching baby whale.

BBL

Hello faithful reader (and unfaithful, cheating, adulterous reader as well):

I am going on a trip to Patagonia tonight and will return on November 22. I will do my best to have lots of fun stories to write in this blog about then.

Paz, Amor, y Obama!

Argentinidad al Palo

On Saturday I took a trip to Santa Fe, the capital of my province. The city is unimpressive, but my favorite Argentinean band was playing, and I figured there must be some cool things, so I went.

In most ways, the city met my expectations, not better or worse. I anticipated a run-down small city of the muggy, South American kind. And that's what I got.

Except for one part. The main shopping street in Santa Fe is actually very nice. The only problem with it is that it might as well be in New York.

Literally every store is American. I asked in one store whose name sounded Spanish if the brand was Argentinean. She shrugged. "It's popular here, I guess." It was as if even the idea of an authentic Argentinean chain was inconceivable.

It was a little odd. I mean, you fly across the world, you expect to see something new.

So I headed towards the center of Santa Fe. There are lots of pretty, old buildings there in addition to a few banks. That's cool and authentic. Except for the fact that the banks are all European.

Should I have just stayed in Connecticut for the year? Are Chinatown, Little Italy and Boca Raton more ethnic than Santa Fe, Rosario or Buenos Aires?

Not exactly.

So globalization happened (happens?). Businesses in Rafaela are in trouble because they put their money in Lehman Brothers and Ronald McDonald says Bienvenido as you walk into his very Yankee restaurant.

Enter: Bersuit Vergarabat. Things change.

Bersuit is one of Argentina's most popular rock bands. Their music sounds a little reggae, a little classic rock, a little cumbia (formerly known as Spanish polka music), a little bit tango, but it is all very firmly grounded in Argentina. Even though it incorporates different styles of music from around the world, its lyrics are clearly about life in Argentina.

Take "Argentinidad al Palo" for example, which translates loosely to "Argentina Frenzy." This song describes all the great things about Argentina - the things that are really Argentinean, like dulce de leche and alpargatas and the peaceful mixing of immigrants. It's definitely rock and roll, but you can't escape the distinct Latin rhythm.

I left the concert impressed with their music and performance, but there was another thought I had: this was the first thing I saw all day that is authentically Argentinean.

Overall, I have to say that Argentina is not doing so well. On one wall in Santa Fe, graffiti for the Young Fascists Club was crossed out and replaced by propaganda for Communist Youth. You know when your youth group choices are Hitler Youth: the Sequel and Stalin Groupies you have problems.

But it's comforting to see that there is a definite Argentinean culture and a unique history, and I don't think that should be overlooked. This is not a banana republic or a former European colony whose boundaries were haphazardly thrown together. It's a developing country, but it's only the government and economy that needs to develop; once (if) that happens, stand back, mighty Europe (and America), as Madonna/Evita says. These people have something special to offer the world.

Rafaela

Here's a story which I think accurately sums up my experience in Argentina so far:

My visa is going to last for only 90 days, so I have to go to Santa Fe to renew it. The plan: all the exchange students would meet in Esperanza at 9:30 AM and then the district chair would drive us to Santa Fe. The problem: there is no bus that can get me to Esperanza before 9:30. If I want to go directly to Santa Fe, I'd have to take a bus at 5 AM, which would arrive in Santa Fe more than two hours before than the other exchange students from Esperanza. The solution: I would stay in Rafaela Wednesday night with Mariana and Bety, my host sisters, who have a house there. On Thursday morning, I would take the bus to Esperanza with another exchange student in Rafaela. What actually happened: I arrived in Rafaela around 5 in the afternoon, and a few hours later met up with Anders the exchange student. He told me that I actually don't have to go to Santa Fe because when we pass through Chile in a couple weeks (our trip to Argentina's south), I will get a new visa. I called the district chair who told me that Anders was right - none of the exchange students have to go to Santa Fe. So I had that night and the next day in Rafaela to do whatever I wanted for fun.

Which turned out to be a wonderful thing!


Rafaela is not the most special city in Argentina; my tourist book doesn't even show it on the map. After spending so much time in a small town, however, you begin to appreciate little things. An unusual door which would otherwise go unnoticed becomes interesting; a big house looks like a mansion; a small plaza becomes Central Park.

And so it was with Rafaela. My host sister Mariana told me that Rafaela is a wealthy city and it shows - the plaza was extremely well-maintained, with beautiful statues that were well-lit at night. There are a number of high-end stores as well (though the only thing I bought came from the Argentinean version of Wal-Mart). My favorite part of the city were the cobblestone streets. On Thursday morning, I sat beneath the palm trees and spring breeze eating a delicious medialuna looking at the people passing by on these streets - a cherished moment in Argentina's slow pace which I normally consider frustrating.

The church was also worth seeing. Like the church in San Vicente, la Iglesia de San Rafaela towers above the other buildings in town. The doors were open as I passed by and I glanced at the altar (I think it's called) which put every Torah ark I've ever seen to shame.

So I went inside. I stepped in cautiously, not sure whether I should take the holy water, or whether I was even allowed in at all, considering the fact that there were some people praying. A woman who was vigorously cleaning the church, who would later introduce herself as Diana, saw me over at the door and encouraged me to step closer to the altar. And then I received a twenty minute, full tour of the church - the symbolism of every statue and painting, the history, the bishops and priests that had worked there. At the end of the tour, Diana guided me towards the chapel and encouraged me to pray to thank Jesus for the chance that I stumbled into this magnificent. It was a little awkward.

I suppose that la Iglesia de San Rafaela pales in comparison to the well-known churches of Europe - as it should. This was no Notre Dame, and Rafaela is not Paris, London or Rome. But the church is worthy of appreciation. Just because it's not famous or any better than others doesn't mean that it isn't spectacular. The little things - the cobblestone streets, the statues in the plaza, the church - become special.

My BFF Che

No, don't worry. While I'm not far from Mr. Guevara's childhood home, the two of us are far from amigos, let alone best friends forever.

You see, "Che" is not a name saved for murderous revolutionaries. It is not a symbol of rebellious youth, nor is it a picture to plastered on to college dormitory walls.

In Latin American studies, we learned that Che was Argentinean slang for "you." In a very well-researched paper last year for Ms. Ward (two whole websites, if you can believe it), I wrote that "You" was an appropriate name for Mr. Guevara's selflessness and Communist philosophies.

But to define "Che" simply as "You" is misleading.

At first, I thought it was a young person's thing. Kids address each other with "Oye, Che!" which I took to mean "Yo!" But my host parents also use Che frequently, sort of like if they forgot your name for a minute, or maybe don't have the energy to say it. In these cases, Che sounds more like "Hey, pal," or "buddy."

So what is "Che?" Pretty much anything I suppose. It is "pal," "Homie G" and everything in between. It's timeless slang - the way every generation of Jews says "Oy!", and every generation of Texans says "y'all."

Which, I suppose, makes it a very appropriate nickname for Mr. Guevara. There are few figures more timeless than Che; two generations later he remains probably the most well-known symbol for fight-the-man movements. And to think his name is still uttered in everyday conversations in Argentinean schools, football fields and offices!

Is Sarah Palin Evita Peron?

Today and Friday, we watched Evita in history class. This was, unfortunately, the second time I've seen the movie. Once was more than enough.

The second time, however, I noticed something about Madonna's portrayal of the former Argentine First Lady that I didn't see before. Her story is oddly similar to another leading lady in politics...the not-so-lovely Sarah Palin.

Now, I'm basing my knowledge of Evita Peron only on what the movie shows, which, as my Evita Peron expert-in-residence Rachel Ritter has informed, is pretty much entirely inaccurate.

I say historical accuracy is overrated. Kind of like Sarah Palin thinks evolutionary theory is overrated.

So let's begin with the similarities: Palin and Duarte-Peron both provide an "everyman" tone to their campaigns. Eva came from rural Argentina; Sarah came from the most rural place in America. They both grew up outside of the upper class and they let everyone know it. Eva says: "[Peron] supports you, for he loves you; understands you, is one of you. If not, how could he love me?" Palin says "I'm a hockey mom so John and I understand your problems." This personal history combined with particularly incisive rhetoric has made both of them the rabble rousers of the campaign, their men the more lackluster politicians.

Palin and Peron were also both used as appeals for female support. Eva went so far as to create a branch off of her husband's party, the Peronist Feminists. Her speeches to women were used to assure them that Peron was most attuned to their needs. Palin has done the same. She hasn't exactly created her own women's political party, but she did invoke Hillary Clinton and Geraldine Ferraro early on in her campaign. Perhaps she's considering creating something like Eva's party - a bipartisan exclusive club for the women who got really, really close.

Both women also spent lots to look good. Eva instructed her advisors: "Christian Dior me, Lauren Bacall me, Machiavelme." (Incidentally, these may be the only clever lyrics in the entire musical). Even though she represented the poor, she wanted to be a symbol of glamour, a near-goddess to admire. Palin still evokes the "I'm one of you" look, yet recent reports say that the campaign spent somewhere around $150,000 on her clothes. This is still a loose connection, however. In all fairness, Palin did need a lot of new clothes for a long campaign season, and she's still a far cry from Lauren Bacall. (And Humphrey Bogart is a long way away from the possible future First Dude).

The last similarity I found between them is their attitudes towards the press. Peron destroyed the press that criticized or opposed her. Critical journalists were jailed. Palin simply brushes aside the press as liberal hogwash.

As the movie concluded, however, I found that my Venn Diagram, which had formerly been bursting at the middle, was growing on the sides.

Eva sings consistently of a "New Argentina," but, as Obama likes to point out, Palin promises "more of the same." Their methods of gaining political power also differ drastically. Eva slept her way to the top; Palin just got lucky.

And I don't think it would be proper to write a post about Evita without mentioning the Europe scene.

"Stand back, mighty Europe!" says Madonna, as she makes her way through Spain, Italy and France. She is met like a celebrity in Spain, a fascist in Italy, and mostly loved by the French until she became ill. She concludes the song with: "You want to know what you're gonna get in me? Just a little bit of Argentina's finest star quality." While her Europe trip had mixed results, the fanfare and applause she drew was far more reminiscent of Obama's summer trip than Palin's campaign performance. Obama is the definition of American star quality. Palin is more like a dangerous meteor shower.

As the campaign comes to a close, I don't find it difficult to imagine Governor Palin on a gloomy November 5 singing "Don't cry for me, America." The difference between Palin's version and Madonna's is that I don't think America will actually be crying.

So to answer the initial question: is Sarah Palin Evita Peron? Not really. At all.

This is a kind of disappointing conclusion; I was really excited when I thought of the connection.

Although...maybe it's for the best. If Palin were too similar to Eva, Tina Fey would never have the opportunity to star in a movie-musical called Sarah; right now that's the only positive thing I see coming out of a McCain/Palin administration.

Top 10: Things to Do in San Vicente

1) Ride in a van around the plaza
2) Chow down choripanes at a Saturday night asado
3) Dance at Villa Juarez, the boliche
4) Party in Fede's father's repair-shop
5) Play a round of "Jodete" in the break at school
6) Snack on a delicious alfajor (Santa Fe's speciality is a buttery, one-tier alfajor with dulce de leche in the middle, lightly coated with coconut).
7) Sip mate in the plaza
8) Wake up at noon (or later)
9) Read good books
10) Watch American movies dubbed in Spanish

San Vicente Sims

Let me explain a little about how the Sims works:

You start with a neighborhood with a number of plots. Each neighborhood has a certain theme - my favorite is Veronaville, a town complete with the Capp and Monty families, in addition to the oddly-dressed Summerdreams. You have the opportunity to create your own families and add them to the mix, or play with the pre-existing ones.

Eventually, everyone in the neighborhood becomes connected. As Sims continually swap spouses and children grow up and get married, it's difficult to find a mate who isn't your Sims' first-cousin's sister-in-law, or something like that.

This makes the game so much more fun and so much creepier, as you try to figure out Sims' relationships; the Sims becomes something like that scene from Spaceballs when Darth Vader tells Luke of their very, very distant relationship.

San Vicente feels like that sometimes.

Take Miguel, for instance. Miguel told me that Virginia is his cousin because her boyfriend is Miguel's cousin. Last year, however, Miguel dated Virginia, and I believe that Miguel's current girlfriend has some sort of family relationship with Virginia.

Or take Cristina. She hates Maria because Maria's best friend Claudia went out with Cristina's best friend Gloria's ex-boyfriend after they broke up. Yet Cristina was invited to Maria's quincinera because Maria's boyfriend is Cristina's cousin.

How about the Lerda and Gomez families? Fede's father and Franco's father were best friends growing up. They now have two sons each, each pair in the same grade, best friends as well.

Laila's paternal and maternal grandmothers get together at Laila's house on Sunday afternoons.

Emilio's cousin comes over to play computer games when his parents are out.

Betina's ex-boyfriend from high school still gives her mother flowers on her mother's birthday. He has, after all, known her practically his whole life.

Grandparents live next door and often stop by to say hello. Cousins hang out on the weekends. I sometimes wonder if the government provides everyone with $20,000 when they move out.

San Vicente really is the most excellent of Sim neighborhoods.

Oh, and did I mention it's real?

To Jerusalem, Washington, Buenos Aires and Back

Last week, I spent an evening at the English Institute. I went to help with a class of kids a little bit younger than me.

Silvina, the teacher, told me to check out their small library and feel free to borrow any books I wanted. The library was indeed very small, but Saul Bellow's To Jerusalem and Back caught my attention.

That book was today's main activity. To Jerusalem and Back is Bellow's memories and thoughts of an extended trip to Israel. It reads sort of like this blog, if it were written by a more astute and literary author and all the posts were compiled into a book. Bellow transitions seamlessly from philosophy, politics and history and connects it all with the conversations and sights of his trip in the 1970s. It won the Nobel Prize for Literature and I think it's well-deserved.

There's a lot in Jerusalem to keep a person thinking. What struck me was how little things have changed since Bellow wrote the book. After a few pages, I forgot that the book was published over thirty years ago - I kept thinking about how similar my experiences were in Israel just last year.

The comparisons I drew were sometimes quaint, like his descriptions of the idealistic kibbutznicks. More often they were disturbing. When Bellow was writing, the Jewish community was worried about leftist anti-Zionism in Europe spreading to America, propagating the belief that the Jewish lobby was too strong. Civilians were being killed by terrorism - though I don't think suicide bombers would come around for at least another decade. Families were dealing with the losses of their sons from the 1973 War, but it could have just as easily been families coping after the 2006 war with Hezbollah. The Palestinean territories were still in question, as were the Golan Heights, and no one was sure what to do about the Israeli Arabs.

In one section, Bellow asks Yitzchak Rabin if he is worried that America will drop Israel in favor of the Arabs' oil. Rabin thinks that the U.S. will no longer need to rely on the Arabs once it creates alternative energy sources. "But how long will that take?" Bellow wonders. "Six, eight, ten years?"

It was chilling.


That paragraph has been running through my head the rest of the day. How long will that take?

The end of this campaign season has left a Democratic victory all but certain, which should be good news for environmentalism and alternative energy. The financial crisis has made McCain squirm as Obama coasts to the White House. Obama really couldn't have a better political environment.

I'm obviously happy about the impending win, but I think it's also allowed Obama to lay low, and play it safe, rather than taking tough stands and showing true leadership on important issues that are rarely addressed in an honest, head-on manner. The most prominent one is that which Rabin was so sure of thirty years ago: alternative energy resources.

When pressured by McCain to list the ways in which he has stood up to liberal interests and the Democratic Party, Obama said that he was for clean coal resources. He also said at another point that he would "look into" offshore drilling in the Arctic, which is better than a rash cry for "drill, baby, drill," but still not reassuring. I think Obama and McCain both know that neither clean coal nor offshore drilling is really the answer to our dilema. The candidates are forced to boil down policies to one, symbolic gesture which doesn't at all do justice to their whole platform. Obama's economic policy is reduced to ending Bush's tax cuts for the rich; McCain's is getting rid of pork. McCain's energy policy is "drill, baby, drill;" Obama's energy policy is investing in alternative energy resources, which is also now every politician's energy policy even though barely any act on it.

I was proud when Obama stood up to both Clinton and McCain in the spring against the summer gas tax holiday. There seemed finally to be someone who was willing to stand up for common sense against what was popular and easy. I hoped that he would continue that way throughout the whole campaign, talking about the issues that need serious address and not just chatter about wind or ethanol.

As Election Day nears, Obama's path has steered farther away from what is sensible and right. I hope that changes in January.

Moe the Plumber

Politicians do all sorts of weird things to gain votes; McCain/Palin really like the "talk about very specific individuals and demographics" trick. It started off with hockey moms, next an Alaskan elementary school and then we moved to a few men who are oddly named "Joe Sixpack."

I thought I had finally figured it out. Well, of course they're talking about hockey moms so much! With McCain/Palin slipping in the polls, they've really got to excite their base; there's not a lot of it left! Here's the breakdown as I saw it:

Alaskans: 50%
Hockey Moms: 30%
Men named "Joe Sixpack": 20%

But last night John McCain went into unchartered waters. He was actually trying to expand his base by reaching out to someone who is apparently an expert on Obama's tax policy, a man who is now known only as "Joe the Plumber," which is I suppose a little like "Alexander the Great," or "Suleyman the Magnificent."

Joe the Plumber is a supposedly typical American who was looking to buy the business he'd been working for his whole life. The problem: if he bought the business, he would make over $250,000 a year and his taxes would go up under Obama's plan.

I suppose John McCain was trying to show that there are lots of ordinary, average American citizens (named Joe, by the way), who are going to have to pay higher taxes under Obama's plan.

Obama was quick to respond that 98% of small business owners make under $250,000. Even after a childhood in Westport, I know that $250,000 is well above average. In fact, I think most people would call that "rich." (Obama's answer to Joe himself was stupid: simply "spreading wealth around" is Socialism and not exactly why most people think we should pay taxes. McCain lightly touched on Obama's attempt at class warfare, and I think he might actually have a campaign of substance he focused on it. Apparently McCain/Palin think William Ayers is more relevant).

Unlike the other characters in the rousing black comedy that is the McCain/Palin campaign, I really get Joe the Plumber. I don't know anyone named Joe Sixpack or any hockey moms (except for one in Westport of whom I'm very fond, but for some reason I don't think she's the type that Palin is reaching out to).

I do know someone, however, who was pretty similar to Joe the Plumber. His name was Moe the Plumber and he was my grandfather.

Based on my knowledge of Moe the Plumber, I'm trying to figure out how effective McCain's new strategy is.

Let me provide a little background information: Moe the Plumber was born Murray Seymour (sp?) Feldman on June 12, 1928 in Brooklyn, NY to Pauline and Dan Feldman. For most of his childhood, he lived in his aunt's basement. His father was largely absent, but he did provide one major purpose in Moe's life: the union. Moe was able to enter the plumbing union because his father, Chewin' Tobacco Dan (not a joke), was a member.

Moe worked his way up through the ranks, eventually becoming the foreman of a plumbing company, raising a family in Queens with a backyard and a tomato garden (he had a lot of Italian friends, I guess). His hours were long and his boss was a tough, Jewish guy named Saul, Samuel or something like that. He didn't take vacations and he didn't get sick. Moe probably came closest to the realization of the American dream and the embodiment of the American ideal - a man driven by his work, by success, and by a belief that in spite of all the bad, life could be beautiful. If he weren't a Jew from Brooklyn, he would have been a most appropriate addition to McCain's cast.

Moe's political philosophy was probably most similar to libertarianism, but he voted Democrat pretty much every time. (He was, however, impressed with the arguments his few pro-Bush friends made). Moe was not a rebel, and a New York Jew voting Republican is much more than that - he'd be heretic. If conformity wasn't reason enough, there was also the consistent goading from his son-in-law and his grandson. He was staunchly against most welfare programs, not because he was a heartless Scrooge, but because he figured it was up to individuals to pull themselves out of poverty. During the final days of the primaries, when it was down to just John McCain, Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama, the newscaster said something along the lines of: "It will surely be an interesting election: a woman, an African-American, and a war veteran." "That's what people will see in November," my mom said. "People see a woman, a black man and a war vet. Who would someone like Grandpa Moe vote for?"

Someone like Grandpa Moe...hm.

Friends, there's a new key constituent group. In 2000, it was all about the Hispanics. In 2004, it was about the youth vote. Now, ladies and gentlemen, the group who will decide the 2008 election: plumbers.

Plumbers don't only live in the swingiest state of Ohio, like everyone's newest favorite American Joe. There are a lot of retired plumbers also living in Florida - I met at least five of them last year. And I'm sure there are lots of plumbers in Pennsylvania, too! My grandpa said that the plumbing union events drew big crowds; Sarah Palin's role model Hillary Clinton actually came to one of them!

There's a problem though. You see, the plumbing union actually endorsed Obama.

(1 point for Obama in Moe's book).

And actually...Joe the Plumber isn't even in the union.

(He's not in the union?)

Moe, I don't know how to tell you this but...Joe wasn't even an apprentice.

Moe: He was never an apprentice?
Me: No...he's actually the manager of a plumbing business.
Moe: So why's he speaking for plumbers?
Me: That's kind of where I'm going...
Moe: Who's Teddy voting for?
Me: Obama.
Moe: OK. I'll vote for the schwartze.

Aw shucks. Better luck next time, Republicans.

On the upside...rumor has it that my Grandpa John was a Republican. McCain might want to look into ladies' garments manufacturers. It looks promising!

Palestine: Civilization, not Fighting Nation

Trivia question: In what state was Jesus born?

A) Israel
B) Palestine
C) Alaska

And the correct answer is...B!

American Jews like to say that Jesus was born in Ancient Israel, but there's one problem with that. When Jesus was put on the cross, it was in fact the Romans who were in charge; they called the territory "Palestine" after the Israelites' ancient enemies, the Philistines. When the Arabs invaded some six- or seven-hundred years later, they too called the territory Palestine.

Unlike American Jews, the San Vicente Catholics know that Jesus lived in a place called "Palestine." The sophomore class' most recent catecism assignment was to set up a display about Palestinian life in the time of Jesus. They made pyramids to demonstrate the social structures, a 3D display of the Second Temple, and a number of posters with similar information.

One of the posters was titled "Palestine: History and Geography." It was composed of only seven pictures and no words. The pictures included the following:

1) A cartoon of a brick wall in the shape of the Jewish star surrounding a tiny Palestinian flag
2) A Muslim woman at the Dome of the Rock
3) The security barrier
4) What appeared to be an East Jerusalem neighborhood
5) A Palestinian boy throwing a rock at an Israeli tank
6) An Israeli bulldozer

The combination of these pictures is obviously a misrepresentation of Palestine's history and geography, especially as it pertains to Jesus. Jerusalem and Nazareth are both west of the Green Line and Jesus grew up in a predominantly Jewish society. The "Palestine" of today - what is generally considered to be the West Bank and Gaza Strip - actually has very little in common with what the Romans called "Palestine" except for the physical territory. It wasn't until the Arab conquest that Arabs began settling in Palestine; Jews had been living there for hundreds of years.

If one were to attempt to provide a modern-day vision of Jesus' nation, as the San Vicente poster seemed to do, it's pretty obvious that photos of modern-day Israel would be most appropriate, with maybe some pictures of the Palestinian city of Bethlehem. Why, then, did these Argentinean students use not only pictures of Palestine and Israeli Arabs, but blatantly anti-Israel pictures as well? Do these students have some kind of bias against Israel?

I don't think so. While there are, as I wrote in my last blog post, a number of Nazis floating around Argentina, San Vicente has been welcoming and curious about my Judaism. They thought my pictures of Israel were beautiful; in one history class, the teacher explained (rather succinctly) that the Holocaust brought about the creation of Israel which caused conflict because the Jews took some Palestinians' land. This provoked no response of outrage or indignation from the students against Israeli expansion. The students here are, for the most part, apolitical about even their own country.

So why these incredibly biased pictures? The answer, I figured out: the students most likely did a Google search of "Palestine" and picked images that looked right.

To test it out, I did a Google search of Palestine myself. My conjecture seemed correct. While I didn't find the exact pictures on the poster, I did find some matches (the boy fighting the tank came up a lot) and a number of other, even more politicized pictures.

"Free Palestine," "End the Occupation," etc. are common hits. There are a few hits about the Dome of the Rock and other sites of Palestinian pride, but most are images that portray despair, destruction or armed resistance.

I see these images and it makes me very sad. Most countries have a culture that defines their nation - their art, architecture, history, or industry. Palestine, on the other hand, is defined merely as the opposition to another state. While there are a number of prominent Palestinian writers, musicians and academics, they are mostly living outside of the Palestinian territories, leaving the Palestinian culture one that is now based almost solely upon war, exile and poverty.

Nearly everyone in Israel agrees that land must be given up to create a Palestinian state. Everyone seems to be shifting left over time, with Ehud Olmert now saying that parts of Jerusalem must go as well. But once this truly independent Palestine is created, what will be its foundation, if not a mantra of driving the Israelis into the sea?

I believe firmly that a Palestinian state must be created. Unlike many Jews, I do not believe that the Palestinians are the same as all other Arabs. I believe as strongly in a free Palestine as I do in an independent Israel - both are nations who have historic ties to their land. But I worry for the future generations of Palestinians, for the Palestinian economy, and for the future generations of Israelis who will have to face this independent Palestine, because a functioning society cannot stand on war alone.

For better or worse, in the twentieth century, this is NOT Sparta.

Hear O Israel

When I told family and friends I was coming to Argentina for a year, I was often told - sometimes jokingly - to watch out for anti-Semitism. I was advised that I might want to take off my Jewish star and not be so forthright about my heritage. This is, after all, the place where Eichmann was found.

I shrugged off the warnings. I have long thought fears of anti-Semitism are exaggerated. For me, anti-Semitism was something of the past.

Of course, the Middle East is plagued with virulent Jew-hatred, but this never really concerned me. Should we really be so surprised or offended that the Palestinians burn Israeli flags? And the Egyptians who claim that the Jews were behind 9/11? Well, there are always conspiracy theories. The Iranian president thinks Israel is a stinking corpse? He has to inspire hatred against Israel or the Iranians might realize the corruption in his own government.

Last night, however, I learned that the anti-Semitism so prevalent in the Middle East is not just about Israel.

I was watching "TVR," part informal news program, talk show, and comedy. The first part of the show was the "Subject of the Week" - the bailout. This show, however, said barely anything of substance about the financial issues. Instead, it basically said that the bailout was a cushion for wealthy, greedy investment bankers who messed up. It lampooned Bush in a faux-interview and song that essentially stated he gambled with his foreign and economic policy as if it were a game. I'm all for political satire, especially satire that mocks President Bush, but this news section was so shallow that it seemed not only anti-Bush but anti-American as well.

The next section of the news was what I found most disturbing - clips of a recent Argentinean Nazi rally. Hundreds of men gathered in Buenos Aires raising their right hands in Heil Hitler fashion extolling the Nazi party - "Death to the Yankees, Jews and Marxists!" One reporter asked a protestor why he was against the Jews. His response? We're Catholic. We're Argentinean. Essentially, in the words of James Baker, "F the Jews."

I think all Jewish kids have nightmares about the Nazis when they're little. But this was the first time in my life that I felt real fear of anti-Semitism. This protest was not organized by fundamentalist Muslims in Cairo, or a rogue group of white supremacists in suburban Illinois. This was a large, organized group in the Argentinean capitol - the center of the capitol, no less.

What worries me most is the specific groups that these Nazis oppose - Yankees, Jews and Marxists. The Arabs tie the Yankees to the Jews, and during the Cold War, some tied the Marxists to the Jews, but to tie the Jews to both? If it weren't so dangerous, it'd be laughable.

So what are these Nazis really targetting? My opinion: the upper-class and its wealth.

The U.S. has lost pretty much all of its fanbase, but it's in the poorest countries that anti-Americanism is at its peak. Groups like al Qaeda channelled Muslim poverty and anger into a brand of Islam fundamentally opposed to the "imperialism" of the U.S. The U.S. is far from perfect and I do believe that we have caused a number of problems around the world. The anti-Americanism of the Middle East, however, is not simply frustration with our invasion of Iraq; it is largely blind hatred for everything American. Al Qaeda preaches against the excesses of everything about America's "imperialism" - from its stance on Israel to McDonalds. "And by the way," Al Qaeda adds, "hate the Jews also."

Argentina is nowhere near as corrupt or undemocratic as countries like Iran or Syria, but it still has its problems. As I wrote in other blog posts, many Argentineans are disappointed or embarrassed by their country's instability. I don't find it so surprising that some of those disgruntled Argentineans, rather than demonstrating for domestic political reform, turn their anger against America as well.

Of course, however, they don't stop with America. They go on to Marxists and Jews. Why Marxists? Hitler hated Marxists. Why Jews? Partly because Hitler hated the Jews. But I also think its because the Jews are always associated with power, money and the upper-class. "Power and money" says America. "Power and money multiplied by 10 since the beginning of time" says Jews.

American Jews often think that the anti-Semitism of the twenty-first century comes from anti-Zionist ultra left-wing, intellectual circles. This is true to an extent. The majority of the pro-Palestinian academics are indeed liberals. But I believe firmly that being anti-Israel is not inherently anti-Semitic, and that the majority of these liberal intellectuals are not anti-Semitic. Many of them are Jewish themselves.

That is not to say that anti-Semitism is a thing of the past, as I used to think. After watching disappointed Argentineans turn to anti-Semitism in their frustration with Argentinean policy that has absolutely nothing to do with Judaism, I now realize that widespread American anti-Semitism is still a very real possibility in the very near future.

Which brings me to Sarah Palin. I should begin by saying that I don't think Sarah Palin herself is at all anti-Semitic. I think when she expressed strong pro-Israel sentiment at the debate it was honest - shallow, but honest. The way that Sarah Palin has transformed John McCain's campaign in the last few weeks, however, shows me that Palin's rhetoric could very well lead the country down a path towards anti-Semitism.

Those who are anti-Semitic are not only resentful of the wealth of the upper-class. Al Qaeda made all things at all related to America, Israel or Judaism sinister.

In her own way, Sarah Palin has done the same to all things Democratic or liberal. Sarah Palin has created her own bizarre form of class warfare and turned it into culture warfare. Sarah Palin claims to represent ordinary, middle-class Americans, but she doesn't focus on the minimum wage, unionization, or middle-class tax breaks. (Maybe that's because she doesn't actually believe in these things).

No, Sarah Palin has made this election about the way that Barack Obama sees the world and the way that "we" see the world. When Barack Obama infamously said that voters who are tired of ineffectual government cling to guns and religion, he was essentially describing McCain's newest campaign strategy. Palin has turned this election into Joe Sixpacks and Hockey Moms vs. the East Coast blue states, progressives, secularism, the well-educated, the city-slickers and the "elitists."

There is no group that fits all of those categories better than American Jews.

If this kind of political speech continues past November, America's partisanship will reach far beyond the current ugliness in Congress. Obama began his national political career with a speech about the unity of all Americans in spite of our differences. Palin has not only torn America apart; she has torn it apart by inspiring fear of this Maybe-a-Muslim Obama (and yes, I know that she has never explicitly said anything so offensive, but let's not beat around the bush. Her stump speeches are really about one thing - an uppity black man who pals around with terrorists). When fear takes hold of a candidate's platform - unfounded fear, based on the opposition's race, heritage and acquaintances instead of his policies - we have entered dangerous territory.

We have entered the same territory that allowed Hitler to pin Germany's problems to the Jews; the same territory that allows Ahmadinejad to pin Iran's problems on the Jews; the same territory that allows Arab and African immigrants in France to pin their problems on the Jews; the same territory that allows a disgruntled, Argentinean minority to pin their problems on the Jews.

Palin's combination of Islamophobia and resentment of the liberal groups is particularly deadly because those groups point directly at American Jews. It won't be long before Joe Sixpack makes that connection.

Yom Kippur

Prayer and I don't get along well. I absolutely hate talking to God...He's a horrible conversationalist. I often find myself in the middle of the Amidah thinking, "We've been over this before!"

I do, however, really love Jewish people. This left me in a High Holiday dilemma...do I want to go to services and pray for hours upon hours or skip out on Yom Kippur entirely like I did with Rosh HaShannah?

I opted for services. I figured it would be an interesting cultural experience, even if services were boring. I googled synagogues in Santa Fe and came up with a Chabad house.

Chabad it was.

For those who don't really know what "Chabad" is, think of the guys in black hats and suits with very bushy beards. Think of the Rebbe Schneerson. Think Orthodox +.

Naturally, I was nervous. I met Rabbi Iair Vasershten in the Santa Fe terminal and he drove me to his house for dinner followed by Kol Nidre services. At his home I met his wife Debby and also Solomon, a rabbinical student in Buenos Aires who was helping the Rabbi out for the High Holiday services. This was my first real encounter with anyone ultra-Orthodox, and I was sleeping in their house. I felt out-of-place, uninformed and VERY under-dressed.

We ate dinner around 6:00...chicken and rice, (so Jewish). After that it was off to Kol Nidre. The next day gave me a lot of insight into Orthodox Judaism and a different perspective on Argentina.

I suppose an educated agnostic might assume that someone so religious has very little knowledge of anything other than Judaism. Not true. Rabbi Vasershten is very intellectual, much more so than people I've met in San Vicente (granted, San Vicente is the Argentine equivalent of hickville). Being a Chabad rabbi means he's had to work in a number of different places all over the world. One of those places is Connecticut, (which he prefers to the snobbiness of New York and the wanna-be snobbishness of New Jersey); he now speaks fluent English. He cares about politics and, for a non-U.S. citizen, can speak very articulately about it. He's even pro-Obama!

I expected that Rabbi Vasershten, because of all his travelling and close ties to Judaism above his country, would not be so concerned with the state of things in Argentina. Again, not true. Iair was born in Buenos Aires. His parents recently moved to Chile and his wife is from Brazil. Iair seemed embarrassed about the way things are going in Argentina - corruption and economic instability have become the norm. I used to think Argentina and Chile were rivals. The Vasershtens, however, seem to have given up any claims to be Chile's "better" neighbor or even equal competitor. While Argentinean wallows in continued instability, Chile is rapidly progressing. Iair spoke of Chile like a beautiful resort where you'd like to vacation - nice scenery, friendly people and a government that works! Debby, accustomed to the bright lights of Sao Paolo, complained that everything in Argentina feels old, even Buenos Aires. Her dream is to move to Miami or another city in the U.S.

At one point, Iair was telling Debby and Solomon about supermarkets in the U.S. that have automatic check-out stations without cashiers working them. Debby didn't understand. "What about when people don't pay?" she asked. "What do you mean?" Iair responded. "Of course people pay."

"People don't cheat it?" Debby asked earnestly. Iair laughed. "Well, in a society that functions, this system works!"

Corruption, I suppose, trickles down. As much as I dislike the Bush administration, our country still functions. The more I see of Argentina, the prouder I feel to be an American (more to this in a later blog post).

I should also say that walking with Solomon and Iair gave me new appreciation of what it means to be a religious Jew outside of Israel. As we were walking, someone screamed out "Barba!" loudly at them, (Spanish for "beard"). I talked to Iair in English for a while on the walk; some girls who were walking next to us asked me where I was from. I told them the U.S. Afterwards, Solomon told me that they weren't only asking me. They were asking all three of us; the Catholic Argentineans usually think that these black-clad people are foreigners. Many of my peers in San Vicente don't even know what a "sinagoga" is. This gave me new respect for the Orthodox; they are constantly stared at and made to feel out-of-place in their own country, yet they stick to their beliefs. That kind of courage is impressive.

The services the next day felt a bit like torture. The tunes to the few prayers that I know were often changed, and they were supplemented by many prayers I'd never even heard before. Rabbi Vasershten did every single prayer and every single service in the Mahzor. Services began at 9 in the morning and ended at 8 at night. Normally on Yom Kippur, I can at least look forward to a fantastic break fast at the Olsens. I never realized how much a person could miss a few bagels and pieces of kugel; this Yom Kippur was by far the bleakest holiday I've ever celebrated. I thought that being with Jews would make me feel at home, but it actually made me the most homesick I've been here. All I wanted to do was sit down at a table with the Levinsons and Davis' and shmere cream cheese onto an untoasted sesame bagel. Instead, I was with a bunch of people who I'd never met before. People say you're supposed to feel at home in any Jewish community at home. While Iair and Debby were incredibly welcoming and made me feel comfortable, I was very aware that I was an outsider in their congregation when I went to services.

To conclude: was this a fun few days for me? Not exactly. Was it interesting? Absolutely. Perhaps most importantly, I came back to San Vicente feeling energized, happy to see the faces that have now become familiar to me. A little break from this town, even though it was to a small city that I barely even had the chance to see, was just what I needed.

Now that I've had my first excursion from San Vicente, I feel like I will have many more; I feel more confident being proactive. Next week, I am going to a Bersuit concert (one of my favorite Argentinean bands) - ironically - in Santa Fe. After that, Melina and I are going to spend a weekend with a friend of hers in Rosario and then two weeks later, I will begin a 17-day trip to Patagonia! And after that?

Well, it's only one month until Christmas, and everyone knows that's the most wonderful time of the year.

Argentinean Pastries

Argentina is not known for much more than economic distress, military coups and Evita. As an exchange student who's supposed to promote cultural understanding, I figure I should write about one of Argentina's good sides: the pastries.

I'm accustomed to the processed, lard-laden Dunkin Donuts or Starbucks muffins, so eating the homemade stuff here tastes very special. There are a few traditional Argentinean pastries which are particularly yummy.

Medialunas: croissant-shaped but with a heavier, cinnamon bun-like dough. Sometimes, if you're lucky, the medialuna is filled with dulce de leche. I think Al Qaeda should consider promising seventy medialunas to the martyrs instead of seventy virgins.

Alfajores: the most authentic Argentinean desert. Three graham cracker-like cookies with mousse or dulce de leche in between, all bathed in either dark or white chocolate. Each region has a special alfajor; the Litoral's special alfajor is white chocolate sprinkled with coconut.

Carasucia: a spongey dough topped with a thick layer of brown sugar. "Carasucia" literally means "dirty face;" the brown sugar is a bit messy.

Facturas: the word for a whole host of pastries. The most common factura is a traingular-shaped pastry made of layers of (what I think) is filo dough. It's glazed and coated with sugar on the top. Other facturas are filled with jelly or cream.

Facturitas: mini-facturas. These pint-sized pastries are great for a small snack with coffee in the afternoon. For a foreigner like me, facuritas allow me to sample many of the delicious facturas.

Auntie Ruth

My recent in-depth New York Times reading has led me to many articles I wouldn't read normally. Supreme Court news is one of them. Yesterday, the NYT ran an editorial about the Court's docket for the upcoming term, and it reminded me about one of my favorite American women: Ruth Bader Ginsburg.



There are many reasons why I love Justice Ginsburg. None of them are legitimate.



I'll begin with her initials: RBG. Doesn't that have such a ring to it? It's only one letter away from RPG, which is only appropriate considering Ginsburg really is quite a "bombshell."



Seriously...her glasses make Woody Allen's look small. The gap between her teeth says "MAVERICK" in a way that Sarah Palin could only dream of. As someone who has spent her life working for justice, it's no wonder she's such a model citizen.


I also must admit that her religion does affect my opinion a bit. If you have to ask about Ginsburg's persuasion, you are a moron.



There is nothing UN-Jewish about Ginsburg. I think that every Jewish person on Earth has a relative named Ruth. And that -burg...could it be more obvious? She's not even Jewish; she's a Jew. And I say that in a completely non-deragatory way.



I'm not one who takes pride in knowing that particularly awesome people are Jews. Their legacies are personal, as is mine. Besides, if I'm going to take on the accomplishments of people like Ginsburg, then I also have to take on the felonies of people like Jack Abramoff (not to mention every theif, mafioso and drug deal in Israel).



Ginsburg, however, is a little different. I don't know if it's because of her religion, but I feel like I understand Ginsburg's character in a deeper way. There are three elderly Jewish women significant in my life - Aunt Charlotte and Grandmas Mimi and Lila (aka "Bubbe" or "Bubs") - and based on my experience with them, I feel like Ginsburg would do quite well in my family.



It requires very little imagination to see Mariam P Davis and Ruth B Ginsburg discussing the failed policies of the Bush administration over Sunday brunch at Montammy Country Club. By discussing, I actually mean that Mariam would be lecturing and Ruth would nod, smile and occassionally say "Very nice."


Which brings me to Grandma #2.



I always saw Ginsburg as the soft-spoken judge; while Stevens and Scalia are duking it out, Ginsburg smiles from the sidelines. This makes her very similar to my Grandma Lila. I can just see it now - a dinner with Lila and Ruthie at Boca Lago:



Ruth: (smiles silently)
Lila: (also smiles silently)
Ten minutes later
Lila: Do you have grandchildren?
Ruth: Yes.
Lila: Oh, very nice.
Ruth: Do you have grandchildren?
Lila: Yes.
Ruth: Oh, very nice.
And so on.



The third Jewish woman in my life is my great-aunt Charlotte. I think Ruth and Charlotte would get along well becuase they contrast each other so nicely. While Ginsburg's emotions are monotone, my Aunt Charlotte, like her brother, cries at almost anything. It's usually for happy things too. There's often no good reason for the tears, but that never stops Aunt Charlotte. I guarantee that if Aunt Charlotte is reading this now, she is crying. I also have this feeling that Ginsburg would appreciate the Junior's cheesecakes Aunt Charlotte buys.



As for Ginsburg's decisions during her tenure on the Supreme Court - I couldn't tell you a single one, (except for Bush v Gore but that doesn't count). I know that Ginsburg is liberal and was nominated by President Clinton, but I don't know much more than that.



So I did a little research. Is Ginsburg really the woman I've always thought her to be?



The answer: yes. And more.

A search through the Times' archive brings up a few articles over the last decade that show Ginsburg to be friendly, courteous, determined, and, of course, brilliant. She does not make enemies and very rarely attracts fanfare to her decisions - except recently, when she gave a fiery oral dissent to a pro-life decision of the court which she deemed political. Ginsburg is a pro-choice femenist and the second-most liberal member of the Court (according to a recent statistical analysis of judicial decisions). In spite of that, she still considers herself closest to Justice Scalia.


Oh, and she was also born in Brooklyn. How awesome is that?

Auntie Ruth

Costume Party

October was created for one reason only: Halloween.

I haven't been trick-or-treating in abuot a decade, but I'm still a huge fan of the horror movies, the TV specials, the decorations, and now the orange and black as well. I'm all for festiveness and there are very few holidays more festive than Halloween.

So you can imagine I was a little disappointed to find out that the Argentineans don't celebrate Halloween. They don't even have a word for our - apparently - distinctly Yankee holiday. (In a recent American movie I was watching, "Halloween" was subtitled as "Navidad." Not quite).

I was pleasantly surprised last night that on the first Friday of October, Villa Juarez (San Vicente's boliche) would host a costume party as a fundraiser for this year's graduating class.

Now, I didn't bring much with me to Argentina, and certainly no Halloween costumes. Everyone suggested I use my sunglasses in some way (my Ray-Bans are quite sexy here).

The only costume-like piece of clothing I have are my white pants. White pants + white polo + Ray-Bans ... I called myself Men in White (like Men in Black, but ... the opposite. Get it?)

I felt very lame. I arrived to Franco's house looking insufficiently awesome. Everyone else had gotten really into it - Superman, gaucho, farmer, and priest all done with meticulous attention to details. I just looked like a preppy, well-dressed Klansman.

A garbage bag was lying on Franco's kitchen table and a memory rushed to me.

A few years ago at camp, my friend Alex and I along with two counselors dressed up in garbage bags and wore toilet paper rolls strung around our necks as ties.

I told Franco that I would be right back.

I walked the two blocks to the Colomberos and changed out of my white clothes into something more comfortable, completing the new costume with a garbage bag and a toilet paper roll. Franco's parents gave me suspicious looks. I assured them that not all Americans were so bizarre.

At the boliche, I was VERY impressed with what everyone had done. The Argentines take their parties very seriously! My costume, as ratty as it may have been, actually proved to be incredibly useful. If anyone needed a tissue, I had a nearly endless supply.

I had a number of responses for what my costume exactly was. At camp, Alex and I had been toilet paper salesmen. That wasn't really an option last night.

I eventually settled on telling people that I'm simply "un loco." How appropriate.

On Language

For the last hour of school today, my class took a walk to the town library for "la ferria de los libros," or "book fair." We entered the lobby of the library to find a few baskets filled with books, some marked "Jovenes" (Children) and others marked "Adultos" (figure it out yourself). My peers and I dug through the baskets until we found something that looked good. My selections: a largely laudatory biography of Che (which kind of scared me) and a compilation of Ray Bradbury short stories. Both books were (obviously) in Spanish. I started reading Bradbury first.


I didn't expect to understand much of it. In AP Spanish we read a number of short stories and I always found them incredibly difficult; I was constantly looking at an online dictionary. Earlier this year, I attempted to read a Philip Roth novel in Spanish. After twenty pages I realized that the only thing I understood was that it took place in Middle America and mentioned wolves a number of times.

So I didn't have high expectations for myself with Mr. Bradbury. I've only been here for a month and a half; I'm not fluent yet.


I was very pleasantly surprised. While I may not be fluent, I have learned how to switch completely into Spanish mode. After speaking only Spanish for a little while, the words come out of my mouth without first translating into English. The process for speaking and understanding Spanish used to be like this:

Topic (the sight, sound, or feel of it) --> word/phrase in English --> word/phrase in Spanish

I have now learned to bypass the second phase for most words, going straight from the idea in my mind to the words in Spanish that communicate that idea.

My problem with reading Spanish before was that I was consistently trying to translate every sentence into English. This slowed me down immensely and also caused me unnecessary trouble for the words I didn't understand. I placed too much emphasis on individual words instead of the general image that that author was trying to convey. When reading Bradbury today, I let myself think only in Spanish. There were many words I didn't know, but I was able to quickly figure out most of their general meanings by understanding the concept of the sentence or paragraph as a whole, the same way you'd quickly figure out a new vocabulary word in English. I was surprised at how vivid Ray Bradbury's stories became for me. I allowed my imagination to create Bradbury's tale in my mind based on his larger concept, rather than relying on every single word he used.

I don't think it is possible to get into this kind of "Spanish mode" with school lessons only. I think you need to be completely surrounded by the language before it can engulf you. A language class can, however, get you pretty close.

I think the key is identifying new words with pictures and sounds rather than the English definition. When communicating, we think primarily in the image of an idea, not the words that express it; as I said, that's the second step. By connecting foreign words primarily with these senses, a student can bypass the second phase - the translation to English. The sensory connection is how we learn our first language as babies, and it is the basis of Rosetta Stone's teaching method. (Admittedly, this has its downsides as well; learning proper grammar requires some traditional education).

Language exercises in my Chinese and Spanish classes often included matching a picture with a new word. I used to think these exercises were unnecessary...if I knew the English definition of a word, I wondered, what's the use in connecting it to a picture as well? That just seems tedious and time-wasting.


And it may be, if all you want to do is get an A on the next test. But if you want to be able to speak quickly and fluidly, those picture connections are actually significantly more important than knowing the English definition. It's well-worth the extra ten minutes of homework.

Now that I've divulged more unnecessary opinions on education...I'll discuss something completely frivolous!


I've been having way too much fun casting Shake-up! Let me know what you think:

Sarah Palin................Julie Walters
George Bush.............Pierce Brosnan (See: Mamma Mia!)
Henry Paulson..........Willem Dafoe (See: American Dreamz)

Cindy McCain...........Amy Poehler
Nancy Pelosi.............Sally Fields
Ben Bernanke...........Tony Shalhoub (The look-alike is just too good. Sorry, George)
Barack Obama..........Will Smith
Michelle Obama.......Jada Pinkett Smith (My favorite character in The Matrix Trilogy after Mouse died)

Featuring:

Britney Spears as Palin's daughter
Dominic Cooper as Palin's future son-in-law
Leonie Hill as Congressional intern #2




Perhaps my knowledge of pop culture and political mishegoss has finally found its purpose. Or maybe I'm actually just insane.

From Wall Street to Main Street to Florida Street: Argentina and the Financial Crisis

Before I begin this blogpost I should probably say that I don't like the fact that our current economic situation is called a "crisis." I think that assumes that there is a very big problem that will be solved and return our economy to normal. Even if things get better, however, they won't return to normal. As the Wall Street Journal so depressively said, while our economy will eventually bounce back, this is the end of Wall Street as we know it. (Does that also mean the end of the Wall Street Journal as we know it?) That's why I prefer "financial shake-up." It also sounds more fun:

Shake-up! the Musical, new this season from Mel Brooks.

George Clooney stars as Ben Bernanke in... Shake-up! Coming soon to a theater near you.

Anyway, throughout this whole ordeal - the glaring New York Times headlines, striking drops in the stock market, the nail-biting vote in the House, - I was thinking "how come I don't hear more about this in Argentina?"

The shake-up! began almost two weeks, but until today neither my host family nor peers had asked me anything; Yahoo Argentina news had only a couple articles about it. The crisis was supposed to be global...so why did the Argentines seem totally ok with it?

I did some research. I visited a number of Argentinean newspapers' websites and checked their coverage and editorials. Here's what I found:

The Argentines don't really see this as a crisis. To them, it's just, well, a shake-up!

See, unlike us relatively stable Americans, the Argentines are quite accustomed to crises. If you look at their presidential history, its one military coups after another. In 2001, there were five presidents in the course of one week. The train workers seem to always be on strike; if they're not, it's the teachers union, and if not them, the airline union. Lehman Brothers? AIG? Business as usual. Sure, the Argentinean stock market is down. But that happens! One Argentine at tonight's Rotary meeting told me: "This country is always in a crisis, but don't worry...we're still alive!"

The Argentines who are actually working on Wall Street or other major financial centers said that because of the Argentine experience, they always have a Plan B. Wall Street could crumble, but they've got an escape route.

I asked my host father Ricardo this morning about how the financial crisis directly affects him, as the owner of a trucking company that deals in the transportation in grains. He explained it to me as such: trading in the cereal industry is centered in Chicago; if the U.S. is in trouble, so is the international cereal trade.

I've heard a lot about how the shake-up is adversely affecting small-business owners all throughout America. The media forgot to mention the small-business owners in Argentinean farmlands.

SHAKE-UP! coming soon

PS as for the title: Florida Street is one of the biggest in Buenos Aires, filled with fancy stores and the rich Argentines and foreigners who shop there. Madonna sings about it in one of the opening scenes of Evita, (but I would stop watching there, because the rest of the movie is absolutely horrible and sometimes downright disturbing. See: military coups and children's deaths set to rock and roll sung by Antonio Banderas).

If it were a comedy...

Random Discoveries!

Nytimes.com has a lot of goodies that the paper copy of the Times can't provide: old but still relevant articles and studies, definitions of key terms, and columnists' blogs. Being a very UNbusy exchange student, I have decided that I would spend much of my free time educating myself about the world by reading through the Times thoroughly, which has brought me to some of those unusual places found only online.

One is a blog called "Lesson Plans," about using new teaching techniques "in a complicated world." Today's post was about a blog that a teacher in Alaska started for her students called "Tell the Raven." Each student can post on the blog and comment on their peers' posts.

The education articles on this blog are usually boring or sappy, but I actually thought this was VERY cool. Having blogged for over a month now and published somewhere around 25 posts, I can say that the experience of writing a post is entirely different from the traditional essay or even the good ol' "reading journals" in a number of important ways.

1. Blog posts can be about any topic while still providing necessary direction. In sophomore year, my English teacher Mr. Young often had us write "prose sketches," or short, rough essays about the topic of our choice. This, however, often left students more confused than liberated. There are a zillion and one things a person could write about. Blogging, however, gives just the right amount of freedom. Each blog has a general purpose, some form of a loose heading, like "An American exchange student's adventures through South America" or "Perez Hilton's celebrity gossip." The blogger has a general idea of what to write about, and can always rely on just writing about his day, as boring as it may have been. Or...he can go on a wild, unwarranted tangent about education.

2. Blogs are incredibly personal. Essays are usually academic; we have to put on airs to discuss the literary merit of John Ashberry, or Virginia Woolf's stream-of-consciousness. Because a blogger has such total control over his posts - no rubric, no mandatory topic - he also has the power to write them in any way he chooses.

3. Blogs are actually read by other people. When you write an essay, it's specifically for one teacher; there's less pride in something that's only read by one person, and also less genuinity because no matter what a teacher says, students are always writing for the teacher. When writing something for a variety of people, I feel like I'm producing something original and worthwhile.

In my opinion, blogs have assets that make up for most of the shortcomings of other student writing.

So of course, I thought this experimental education in Denali, Alaska is absolutely brilliant, like a lightbulb that goes off saying ah...if only Staples were doing this...

I'm accustomed to new teaching techniques...my Chinese teacher Mr. Fray had us do a TON of projects using different software, websites, media, etc. Sometimes they didn't work out, sometimes they did; all were worth the effort in creating a new curriculum that could incoporate the best teaching tools available. While "English" is a pretty well-established curriculum, I think it would be worth it for English teachers to look into blogs as a new tool to improving student writing.

(Of course, after reading this article about the Alaskan teacher and thinking she's a genius, I remembered that one particularly...noteworthy...Staples teacher was already doing this last year. So maybe it's not so revolutionary. Regardless...it's still very cool and something that I think more teachers should check out).

Since I'm on a whole "education" theme today, I should probably talk a little more in depth about the Argentinean education system.

I must warn you first: please excuse, what my aunt Cindy called, any displays of "Yankee cultural elitism." I went to a really rocking school, I got a great education and I can see some pretty blatant differences between a Westport education and a San Vicente education.

First is technology. This is obviously a factor that can't be changed, not easily anyway. The U.S. is simply way more advanced technologically; we have more computers and better computers. My American friends might not realize just how much of a difference this makes. Our education is based primarily on the computer; it is impossible to be a Staples student without a computer and an internet connection. Argentina is still stuck on the pen and paper. If students find some information they need for a class on the internet, they don't usually print it out; they copy it down. Argentina is called a developing, not third-world, country, yet its technology lags far behind the U.S. This makes a huge difference in how quickly students can learn; I have a much greater appreciation for always having new computers available to use, even if I have to wait in line at the library. In San Vicente, they're still on Windows 98.

Staples education is without a doubt fast-paced, especially in Honors or AP classes. Teachers talk and you write, getting as much as you can. You abbreviate, you learn to pick out the important info, you bullet, you number, you do whatever you have to do to get the notes you need in your notebook. Sometimes nice teachers will pass out handouts. Argentina: not so much.

Argentina is about rote memorization. When a teacher wants you to write something down in your notebook, she will read each line very slowly to make sure you copy it verbatim. I don't understand this. I can understand not passing out handouts - making copies all the time gets to be expensive. But why aren't students expected to pay closer attention, to allow teachers to speak more rapidly, maybe use the chalkboard if they really want to accentuate a point? My favorite class so far is literature, not just because I like the subject in general, but because the teacher forces students to read, think and discuss rather than just copy.

Teaching students to copy and memorize the material they need to know will allow them to be successful in a specific field, but it will only allow them to do what has been done before, and how it has been done before. Teaching students to think and expand, to draw their own conclusions - that teaches them how to improve on what has been done before, and that, after all, is the definition of economic and social progress, isn't it?

Even Better than the Levitt

Mom, Dad, Friends, Family: I'd like to introduce you to my best friends. They are called Los Palermas, and they are awesome.

I have written a number of times in my blog about "cumbia," the most authentic Argentine music, enjoyed by kids and adults alike. This is the kind of music that I used to call "Spanish polka music"...except then, it was actually Mexican.

All cumbia songs have the exact same rhythm - 1, 2 and 1, 2 and 1, etc. The bands usually consist of multiple percussionists, an accordionist (my favorite), a guitarrist, and an electric keyboard. You'd think the music would get boring after the first few songs, and while it is incredibly repetitive, it's just so much fun that even I was screaming along to the favorite tunes.

The band didn't start playing until 2, and we arrived at 11 to hang out before and listen to the warm-up band. I wasn't planning on staying that late until I saw their picture on the ticket and realized that these cool cats could possibly be the most ridiculous people on the planet. The ticket showed a cartoon of all of them; they were all very fat, with unusual hairdos (including one with a mullet) and bright red and white suits. I decided to stick around.

It was well worth it. Listening to their music was surreal. It felt like a Yankee stereotype of rural South America, an Argentine version of the Brazilian Square Dance video on YouTube. I have a video of Fede and Rocio dancing cumbia but unfortunately it doesn't load because the internet is so slow. You'll just have to wait until I come home to see it, I suppose.

How was your Saturday night?