I Made a Blog!

Blogging is difficult.

No one ever tells you it’s difficult, of course, in fact they rave about it as being a total breeze. 

Let me be the first to tell you, this is a lie.  I speak from experience, as I too, fell for their clever ploys of ease.  Was very proud of self when decided to embark on the great Blogging Adventure.

However, as seems to frequently be the case, things went rather wrong from the beginning.  Here is, in exact detail, the events that unfolded:

1.     Decided to start blog.

2.     Opened computer.

3.     Googled “blogspot”. (See, things are going splendidly so far, right?)

4.     Selected the second option.  I never choose the first one as a matter of principle.

5.     Suddenly was asked to sign in to Truman account??  In my confusion, I did what the computer told me to, and was taken to…

6.    A PAGE ENTIRELY IN SPANISH.  How did this happen?!  Why me??

7.     Found button to switch to English.

8.    After a momentary panic when forgot that in a Spanish page, English would be under “ingles” and not therefore not under the E section, switched language of page.

9.    Was taken through a series of questions, where I was asked to make various decisions of varying importance.  Terrifying.

10.   Arrived, flustered, at first blog post.

I think I need a nap.

Unfortunately, this is one of my Unacceptable Activities while in Argentina.  Come to think of it, this is the entire reason of my blog – the state of being in Argentina, not the Unacceptable Activities, though I do suspect they will come up from time to time.

At any rate, yes, the rumors are true: I have fled the country again.  This time my place of refuge is Buenos Aires, a far cry from the freezing tundra of Kirksville.  (Hurrah!)

I’ve only encountered one major problem here: I don’t speak the language.  Now, examining this statement from a technical standpoint, it’s false.  I’ve taken years of Spanish, was an au pair in Spain – on paper, I look practically fluent.

But put me in front of an Argentine and I gape like a fish.

The gaping is actually intentional now, as I used to try to communicate with them.  This, as it turns out, was a Bad Idea. 

I would always begin with a confident smile, a quick nod in the direction of the person I was planning to address, and…  “Bleh bleh blah mel bhalhakd?” 

A bit taken aback by the sudden disappearance of my ability to form human words, I’d pause.  They’d stare at me.  Undeterred, I’d begin again.  “Malahb bleh blah blub?”  At this point, I’d realize that something had gone horridly wrong, and communication would be completely impossible.  So I’d take the mature route, and turn and run away.  Except I can’t really run that well, especially not on these slick sidewalks (I slide all over the place), so it’s more of an awkward, panicked hobble.  I take my dignity very seriously.

I suppose I’m beginning to get a bit better.  I can form some words when placed in social situations.  “Hola”, “gracias”, “ciao” – all staples of my regular interactions.  It’s good, though – every day I add another word to my list of Pronounceables in Public.

Public is a bit terrifying for me here, but I tend to make up for it by attempting to look utterly unapproachable.  Guys here are very vocal about their sentiments, and they have a rather strong attachment to white blondes – and what I lack in blondeness, I make up for in whiteness, as I’m practically reflective.  This means that everywhere I go, I’m followed by intrusive stares, comments, whistles, and honks.  Which is quite distracting, as I generally have to focus intently on the task at hand, namely: walking without falling over or crashing into any fellow pedestrians or stationary objects.

It is also incredibly difficult to cross the street here, as cars here are not particularly cautious.  Everyone drives like five year olds playing those racing video games, darting in and out of traffic, honking at nothing in particular (or white blondes??), and simply attempting to disprove any and all laws of physics.  They haven’t even bothered to put lanes on most streets, as no one pays attention to them, anyway.  Blinkers are for fools, and anyone who plans on going less than a billion miles an hour turns on their hazards.  Drivers SPEED UP toward crosswalks, and buses often take sharp turns, driving over entire corners of sidewalks.

Petrifying.  Especially because evidently at some point in my life, the common sense portion of my brain decided to stop functioning.  I just kind of wander into the middle of streets, nearly struck by oncoming vehicles, all to the screams of “cuidado!!” from horrified Argentines.  I think I need a leash.

That said, I do love it here.  The perfection of the weather is matched only by the perfection of my friends and “family”, haven’t worn pants in nearly two weeks, and every day is filled with new experiences, occasionally life threatening though they may be.

Hope that satisfies at least some of your curiosity, as that’s all I’ve got for now.  Let me know what you want to hear about, as what I feel like telling is generally far from anything entertaining to everyone else (example: had to abstain from writing about the cross-dressing man).  Actually, let me know if you want to hear anything more at all, as if no one reads this, I can go back to writing letters that I never actually get around to sending.  Equally influential manners of communication, really.

Nos vemos J