When the Going Gets Tough

Which really means: Arriving is easy, going is not.

I have still got at least one one more post to add as the last week flew by and I have not yet accounted for everything or everyone.

This update was going to being posted at the Buenos Aires bus stop VIP lounge. I had just been met by a lovely (I must find a new word to describe people in Argentina) AFS volunteer, Carolina, who was waiting with me while we waited for Veronica-from-Wellington (but recently of Cordoba) to arrive, so we could all head off to the airport together. However, it just wouldn't publish, so was saved until I got home to sort it out.

Mariela and Gabriela, AFS volunteers and also STEP teachers, along with Mirta and Melisa, were all at the bus stop at Parana to see me off. It was very difficult saying goodbye and and also difficult to realise that this was the end of a thoroughly amazing month's experience, the memories of which will last a life time.

Just as the bus was backing out, Roxana and her son, Juan, arrived so I hope you saw me waving to you. It was lovely to see you and I appreciate the effort you put into getting there.* Wipes tears from corners of the eyes*

After a month – I have achieved some immediate language goals which I set soon after arriving. They were first, to be able to have a conversation with Blanca, the great grandmother of the family who neither speaks nor understands a word of English so “negotiated” conversation using a combination of languages was not going to be an option; and secondly to be able to use the telephone to ring for a taxi and to give all the necessary directions for the taxi to find me and then to deliver me to my intended address.

Blanca and I have been able to frequently discuss the weather, which fortunately has been obligingly consistent. Although, today, and only for the second time since I’ve been here, it is raining. I’m taking that as some sort of sign that my time here really is over. It’s very much a case of the End of the Golden Weather.

I am also able to share opinions on the cuteness or energy levels of the great grandchildren at family gatherings and we have also shared an opinion on the outcome of several basketball games we have attended together. Again, I’ve been fortunate because Sionista have won every one of their home games since I’ve been here. I’ll take that as a sign too. Today I was able to have a very simple conversation with her on the phone before I left Parana.

In a “foreign” country, being unable to have a functioning level of language acquisition is a little bit like having a disability - in that it is difficult or impossible to function at the same level as everyone else without specific support or systems in place to safely complete a manoeuvre or to meet your own needs. For example, most times when I have needed to get to or from a school by myself, I have used a taxi, because it’s either too far, too hot or not enough time to walk. Someone has always rung the taxi for me and given the driver the instructions, often with an additional “She doesn’t speak the language” in cautionary warning tones.

So, my first step towards independence was to carefully enunciate the address, under Mélisa’s supervision, to the taxi driver she had called to her address, “Urquiza antes Belgrano, Insituto Ingles, STEP, por favor.” …and we got there. Great joy! The next step was to order the taxi over the phone myself. I had to write down all the directions and practise to make sure people around me could understand me first. “Por favor, un coche para cuarente y siete Nogoya. Mi apellido es Vicente.” This was great – until the operator responded with a question and I had no ideas what he said. Panic! In the end I said, “O.k?” in a Spanish accent and he replied, “Si OK.”

I’ve ordered taxis and given directions a few times now and have thankfully ended up at the desired destination every time. Can you imagine any other time where educated adults would cheer and clap because another educated adult had just made a brief call to order a taxi? Such was the response of my lovely colleagues from STEP on the two occasions where I have instigated the taxi ride in their presence. My personal satisfaction was way out of proportion to the simple transaction I had just completed but it at least meant I could move one box up on the self-assessment chart I have to complete as part of my mission.

Random Observations about Taxis:

Just about every taxi has something dangling from the rear vision mirror, usually a religious accessory of Catholic persuasion and/or a sign that says, “No Fumar”, but I went in a one last night that had a Christmas tree-shaped USA flag in the dangling position. When I asked him what it meant … he said, “air-freshener”. And I was expecting something with deep and meaningful cultural significance!

As mentioned previously, it is impossible to find a safety belt in the back seat of a taxi so it is best to focus on the rosary or cross dangling from the rear vision mirror and hope that it works for keeping random foreign Protestant passengers safe.

Taxi trips from STEP to home are between $5 - $6 pesos depending on traffic lights (or clearing up after an accident). One night, a particular taxi driver almost flew through crossroad intersections and lights, paying little heed to obstacles (people, dogs, motorbikes, horse drawn carts) in the way. It was one of those times when you start to imagine how your death notice would read, or the “She should have been wearing a safety belt!” comments, and where you regret the flippant comment, “Well, if I’m going to die/be injured at least it was doing something interesting in an interesting place…” I arrived safely and relieved, in record time, and only had to pay $4 pesos. Although for one peso extra I would have gladly had a slower ride.

Final Dog Story:

Today I saw at least 1 dead dog in the middle of the road near the river as we were doing a final “sweep” of the area on my way to the bus. There might heave been three dead dogs or one dead dogs and 2 black rubbish bags – hard to tell from the distance. I’m pretty sure dogs don’t take their siesta in the middle of the road.

Kiss and Tell:

How do I know I have fitted in and have assimilated some of the culture? Because when I first came here I was nervous and bewildered by the whole greeting and farewell process - even though I knew on paper what to expect. Whereas in NZ, in many circumstances, a raised eyebrow and a slight upwards tilt of the chin is a sign of recognition and informal greeting, that would never do in Argentina and would possibly be mistaken for an involuntary twitch needing some form of medication or therapy. I think I have been kissed in greeting and farewell more in times in my one month in Argentina than in the entire rest of my life.

It took a bit of time to get used to. Where I have been living in Parana, shaking hands seems to be a very formal optional extra and has only happened here with me (I think) when people know a bit about English/American culture and want to greet me in my own cultural expectations.

One of my earliest gaffes was within 5 minutes of arriving at my Parana home when I knew I was being introduced to someone but completely missed the rest of the details. So I put my hand forward to shake hands with a bewildered woman who was the cleaner/housekeeper. This, I learned, was far too formal and probably best reserved for the bank manager.

Another gaffe I made was when I smugly thought I had got my head around the whole kissing process and decided it was time I instigated the gesture. Once more, my inability to comprehend the subtleties of Castellano at speed, meant that what I had thought was, “ I’ll see you when you come back,” was in fact,”When will you come back”. And my response was to kiss them on the cheek and say, “Chau” which means good bye. There was a bit of bewilderment there for a while too.

Everyone kisses everyone else, pretty much, and the greeting and departing can be a wonderfully warm and ice-breaking gesture. It actually, once you get used to it, is much more comfortable than the frequently uncertain “do I shake hands or not, who will instigate the gesture, do I give a small nervous wave and say Hi, do I just raise my eyebrow” dilemma that we often have in NZ.

In Parana, at a family or any other party gathering, everyone who comes in works their way through those already gathered, giving a right cheek to right cheek kiss, usually with a hand on the shoulder – for balance or an extra physical gesture, and often a hug if the person is well known or a close family member. There is usually a “hola que tal” or “Hola Com’en das” or something which sounds similar and is probably the Argentine equivalent of “Hihowzitgoin? Being kissed-in-greeting by everyone certainly makes you feel welcome, included and accepted.

Some of my most special memories of this gesture are when students have come up to me and kissed me on the cheek as they left the room after a lesson – and this includes young students from about 9 years old. It always took me a bit by surprise but it was lovely and certainly affirming of whatever I had just done with them. It’s one of those “You had to be there” things. People do not seem to have a problem with being physically close to each other here. This would NEVER EVER EVER happen in any of my classes I have ever taught in NZ and could possibly get me fired.

But, as I got to know people better I could confidently greet family members and acquaintances and be an equal participant rather than just someone who was a passive recipient. And yet, I don’t think it’s something that will transfer back to NZ with me apart from with those very close friends that I only catch up with occasionally. I will revert to type and fit back into the NZ culture of discomfort when someone moves into your personal space.

One of my most interesting adult English classes was trying to get information out of them on what were the essential characteristics of the Argentine male and female (a homework task I had to complete for Adriana, in Castellano, of course). So, I gave some examples of the stereotypical NZ male characteristics and tried to explain how a NZ man would be likely to feel as he was being kissed in greeting upon arrival at a party in Argentina, and then, how NZ men would feel if an Argentine man kissed them in greeting at a party in NZ. Spot the intercultural moment!