Jet-lagged, sans caffeine, and clearly not yet proficient

Tonight will more than likely go down in the books as one of the most random of my life. My lone night in Argentina. Why am I here tonight? I think it’s a combination of several reasons, the most important being a slight hunger for something adventurous, independent, and out of the ordinary. I’d argue I’ve done a fair job of getting myself out of my comfort zone – spending my first night halfway across the world all by myself, sans travel companions and tour guides, has been a challenge. It’s also been a learning experience and a great way to break into the city.

Flying in, Argentina (or my window-seat view of it) seemed one thing: flat. Maybe I was expecting the sharp, staggering hills of Rio de Janeiro, or else the bright city lights that light up the sky on a late-night flight. Not today. I arrived early this morning, after a long and sleepless direct flight from Washington, DC to Buenos Aires, and the rising sun lit up miles and miles of flat green land. Cattle country.

Customs was simple enough. I had no problem whatsoever getting through, and if anything I think they were really lax with me because I was flying solo, and clearly not Argentinean – if my blonde hair didn’t give me away, my feeble attempts to speak porteño Spanish surely did. From there, I managed to get the best exchange rate in the airport and reserve an official airport cab (no scamming allowed…) to my hostel.

I tried to take it all in on the cab ride. The traffic was not as overwhelming as I’d been led to believe. Nor was the poverty as striking. I’ve been told not to compare destinations, but I always ignore that advice: My first impression of Buenos Aires reminds me more of Rome than Rio de Janeiro. Buenos Aires lacks Rio’s breathtaking landscapes and incredible hills, but it also lacks the notoriously visible hillside slums-favelas-that you can spot from the plane as it lands in Rio.  I’d been told countless times that Buenos Aires is a European city South-American style, but I still assumed it would approach a Brazilian metropolis more so than Paris or Madrid (neither of which I’ve actually seen, which sort of renders this whole argument irrelevant) – what I found was beautiful architecture marred by one undeniable feature: dilapidation. I guess that’s the consequence of years of economic turmoil, instability, and neoliberal restructuring, all layered on top of a rich, Iberian colonial history.

I’m frustrated with the language. I am having a really tough time with the Argentine “vos” and the peculiar way of pronouncing “ll” and “y” here. Granted, it’s been twelve hours and I’d do well to remind myself that practice, after all, does make perfect. Nonetheless, jet lag and difficulties in communicating to purchase a phone and a computer charger (of ALL the things to forget…) left me exhausted. Needless to say, my Spanish vocabulary expanded rapidly in order to make the aforementioned purchases…

The hostel experience has been a refreshingly pleasant one. Hostel Estoril is beautiful, with colorful rooms, not-so-reliable Internet, friendly staff, and visitors from all over the world. I’m embarrassed to say I double-booked a two-person room so that I could have it to myself, but I didn’t want to have a stranger sharing a room with me my first night in Argentina. Some, including myself might call me paranoid, and I admit it was an unnecessary precaution, but I don’t regret the decision. It’s been a straining and stressful 24 hours, and I’m enjoying the relative peace and quiet in my private room. The room itself is very nice with a balcony overlooking the Congreso building. I have yet to see the building up close, but from a distance it saddens me that this beautiful historic building has become so neglected-looking. After a summer in Washington, I cannot imagine our White House or Capitol with a weed at the far end of the lawn, much less a rugged-looking paint-job.

 Exhausted, yes. In fact, I wasn’t going to blog but figured I should record my first day and first impressions, as negative as they might be. Once again, I’m jet-lagged, sans caffeine, and frustrated with my feeble Spanish (which only gets worse as my energy levels decline), and I’m calling it a night soon. But what a day it’s been! I mustered up the energy to grab pizza with some fellow guests at the hostel – a couple from Canada and a guy from Australia – and heard all about the glories of universal healthcare and the endless problems of the United States. Still, cool company, good food, and fascinating surroundings. I cannot wait to see what the semester has in store!