Kay in Argentina

¡Hola!¿Qué tal?

2009-10-14T03:11:00.000-07:00

Welcome to anyone who has stumbled across my "Kay-in-Argentina" blog. It is the unfolding account of my month in Argentina on a Ministry of Education AFS Spanish Language Immersion Award.

The purpose of my blog was to not only keep in contact with family, friends, students and colleagues, but also to document my own language learning and intercultural experiences pretty much as they happened. It also made my reporting back to the Ministry a lot easier as it helped keep me focussed on what the purposes and expectations of the trip were about.

As an enthusiastic beginner, with only the most basic of the mininum level of survival Spanish language, many of my most interesting (and harrowing) experiences were based on simple communication strategies and interactions.

So, if you want to read this is chronological order, start with My very first post

Then the second post here, and then you will probably have worked out how to read them in order.

¡Chau!

The Last Post

2009-04-22T22:47:00.001-07:00

I couldn't resist the choice of title as today is ANZAC Day, and few things tug at your patriotic heartstrings as much as an ANZAC commemoration.

And, having been in Argentina for the memorial day for the Malvinas (Falklands) and another memorial day for the Desaparecidos (the 30,000 people who 'disappeared' in the "Dirty War" between 1976 and 1983) I have been well and truly reminded of how fortunate my own circumstances have been so far!

The memorial day for the Desaparecidos was initiated in 2006 and was on my first Tuesday in Argentina. I tried to find out about it but didn't have enough tactful language, prior knowledge or ready access to information I could understand. I saw a few banners and some graffiti which seemed to be relevant but I couldn't really understand too much and didn't know what questions to ask.

I tried to do a bit of research on this and came up with the following sites:

http://www.desaparecidos.org/arg/victimas/eng.html
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dirty_War
http://www.abuelas.org.ar/english/history.htm

The Malvinas I could understand a little better but, according to one teacher I spoke to, it can still be quite a controversial topic to cover with school children (the way we cover ANZAC Day in NZ schools) because there are still some strong and potentially conflicting opinions held by some parents. I did find out that many of the Argentine soldiers were young, ill-prepared, under-equipped and under-fed and that they found themselves better treated by the British troops than their own leaders. I was travelling to Iguacu on the Malvinas memorial day so it passed my by completely. When I was visiting a public school I found some students' posters about the Malvinas. See if you can read them (those of you who speak/read Spanish).

However, now that I am back in New Zealand, it's time to account for my last few hours in Argentina and to review the entire month against my initial objectives, expectations and pre-conceptions.

After leaving Parana, I spent about 6 hours on a colectivo (huge double-decker bus) to Buenos Aires. I had a seat with no neighbour so had time to myself and to process the previous month's experiences. I spent the trip dozing in the very comfortable "semi-cama" (semi-bed) bus seats - which are even more comfortable now that I've worked out how the footrest works. There were two separate movies with Spanish subtitles but no other sound, and I was too tired to concentrate anyway. I suppose there may have been ear phones but I didn't bother going in search of them.

It was a bit scary arriving at the bus stop because, although I knew I was being met by an AFS person, I had no idea who that person would be and if they would find me. BA bus stop is incredibly huge, creepy, busy, dirty and full of people and dogs that you really don't want to get too close to.

I was the last person to get my luggage from the back of the bus, and had a frisson of anxiety when the person unloading the bus wouldn't give me one of my bags because I didn't have the luggage ticket for it. I argued, in limited Spanish, that it was my bag, there was no one else waiting, it was the last bag there and that it had a matching AFS label as the bag he had just handed me and , no, I had no other luggage ticket - one ticket was for both bags. He would not let me have my bag, so in desperation I waved my bus ticket in front of him, saying apologetically, "Soy de Nueve Zelanda" (I am from NZ) - It does not pay to antagonise people who have your luggage and I reserve this identification for moments of desperation when it is already perfectly obvious that I am from another planet, and hope that I look incapable of committing anything more dangerous or illegal than being a pain in the neck. Fortunately, the missing luggage ticket was inside my folded bus ticket (it seems it was entirely my mistake, at this point) and my suitcase was liberated. And then, I forgot to give him a tip. Every other time I'd been on a bus someone else had taken care of it for me before I even knew what was happening.

At this stage, I could see no sign of my AFS contact and two men were jockeying for position, insistently offering me their taxi services as if they recognised me! One of them was instantly eliminated as a possible contact. I didn't think AFS would send an unshaven, unkempt, shifty-eyed non-English speaker to meet me. It was a bit creepy as the other one was wearing a very smart suit and was pointing to his photo identity card on a lanyard round his neck, confidently indicating that he had a taxi for me. I wasn't about to lift his card up to my nose to check it out in the semi-adequate light and, even if he was an AFS contact, he would have had to work a lot harder than that to gain my confidence. He insisted he had a taxi and I insisted "No - no taxi" and then I saw Carolina who looked exactly as an AFS contact should - even before I saw her identification. She had been there all along, but was just completely hidden by the pushy taxi drivers.

We headed off for the distant safety of the VIP lounge, to which my bus ticket would give me access. Once we finally got there I realised I had left the required bus ticket with the luggage unloader and said to Carolina could she please unleash however much charm it took to get us in there, saving "She's from New Zealand and she is going to burst into floods of noisy tears any minute," as a last resort. Fortunately, it was not needed and we were allowed in.

Next mission, find the VIP toilet. I was able to ask this myself, in Spanish, and was handed the shaft and knob of a doorhandle to use as a "key". This, supposedly, is to keep the riff raff out of the VIP loo. I'm no longer surprised by toilets in Argentina. This one had one roll of toilet paper among three toilets and, when looking for where the flush mechanism might be, was somewhat alarmed to discover that... there wasn't one, and that flushing was achieved by reaching into the cistern and raising the lever manually.

Veronica-from-Cordoba found us herself as her bus had come in a bit earlier than we expected. She is far more intrepid than I am and is not at all fazed by the things that leave me panicking.

Our next adventure was to find the taxi Carolina had booked. AFS have a preferred company they deal with and the booked taxi driver was waiting at another exit. Once we had found each other, there was a bit of a dilemma getting everything into the taxi. There were three passengers plus all our luggage and the driver said his boot didn't open. He managed to jam our two big suitcases in the front seat, blocking half his vision through the windscreen and totally through the side window, then the three of us squeezed into the back seat (not a safety belt to be found) with all our hand luggage and a smaller suitcase each tightly fitted on and around us. I was sure it would be impossible to fit us all in - but somehow we did and hurtled off for a reasonably long ride to the airport. Observation: There are things that you do in other countries that you would not dream of doing in your own country. Most of these things involve suspending all previously held notions of minimal safety or hygiene standards you would tolerate.

We ended up waiting for three hours extra at the airport as there was some problem with the plane to be sorted. This is always unnerving. There were people lying asleep all over the place, the air con was on super-chill and only one perfume-type duty free shop was open. I had a few pesos I would have gladly parted company with but there were no other shops open - so we bought a few coffees at $12pesos each - which helped get rid of some of my Argentine money. There was internet wireless available and I had my computer with me, except I had packed my power cord in my other luggage and was fast running out of battery. Frustration was mounting but fortunately, Veronica had a NZ-capable cellphone and I was able to text people at home to say... don't get up early to meet the plane.

My parting memory of Argentina was of the large world map on the wall of the departure lounge - pretty much anatomically correct except for the complete lack of New Zealand at the far right hand side of the map. Discovering the absence of NZ on the airport world map is quite disconcerting - and you hope that at least the pilot has New Zealand on the maps he's using to find his way to Auckland airport. I have seen several other Soouth American-centric maps of the world with no sign of New Zealand.

There were still a few cultural experiences to be had on the plane on the way home - the inevitable toilet experience being one of them. It seems that many people in Argentina do not flush all paper down the toilet - it appears to be gathered in a waste paper basket beside the toilet. I did not investigate the how, who and where questions begging to be asked about this. However, there was no such receptacle in the tiny plane toilet so the ....damp paper just piled up in the corner over the 12 hours on the plane. Think about it!

Also inevitably, the movie screen nearest to me (Yay! The wide screen at the front of the plane, I thought,) did not work. So, to watch any of the three in-flight movies, I had to crane my neck at about 30 degrees to see anything at alln the next small screen down the plane. I ended up listening to the Spanish sound track but couldn't really follow any of them.

Then, I found the same Argentinian comedy channel that I had tried to follow on the way over, a month ago, and decided to do a 'before' and 'after' language acquisition check by listening to it again.

Here's what I wrote about it a month ago:
In the spirit of the “immersion’ part of my immersion award, I listened to an Argentinian comedy channel on the in-flight entertainment, the only non-music option. Disappointingly, and disturbingly, I could only pick up one word “veinti cinco” which sent the audience into peals of laughter. I only realised the channel had repeated itself when I heard “veinticinco” followed by the same peal of laughter. The third time round, with extreme focus, I picked up "Japonais" and a few more “buts”. My confidence was diminishing...

I was extremely and gratefully surprised that I could understand so much more of it than the first time. Although I could still not understand the punchlines or follow the entire monologue, I could identify many of the words, and even if I didn't know the meanings of them, they were familiar and I could identify when many words started or finished. A few place names leapt out at me too. I felt that if I could listen to it very slowly I would be able to understand a lot more, and if I could read it, even more so. My confidence was boosted.

And, in a Google Earth moment, how awesome to be able to look out the plane's window and finally see the Waikato River, to pass over Otaua and Waiuku - and recognising Mum's roof at Sandspit, and then seeing the steel mill and the ARC park at Awhitu - even being able to locate my favourite camping spot and pohutukawa tree... before safely and smoothly landing at Auckland. I was in no rush to finish my month away, but when it's over, it's over!

A few final observations:
How nice Auckland airport is to arrive at with its native bird call recordings tweetling away as you walk through to the immigration area.

Although I was away for only a month, I couldn't help but notice how proverbially clean and green New Zealand was when I got back.

New Zealand money is a lot more colourful than pesos and US dollars.

Pesos are not good for any duty free transactions at Auckland airport.

You will always wish you had bought a few more prezzies.

When you have been living on a limited wardrobe for a month, there will be some clothes that you never want to see again.

Things you didn't do before you left (that you should have done) have a habit of still needing to be done when you get back home.

New Zealand toilet paper is a lot stronger and thicker than Argetnina's - it would seem.

In genreal, I have discovered that New Zealand toilets are a lot more predictable and obliging than Argentina's.

There are more insects in houses in New Zealand than there seem to be in Parana. Although, I did hear on the news that the enclave of Argentinan ants has been successfully and expensively eradicated from somewhere in New Zealand recently.

I can now text my friend Vivienne in Spanish and understand her replies in Spanish. At this point it's been limited to "I'm in a maths course. How is your Spanish Course going?" but I envisage, "Meet you for coffee in half an hour?" as a frequent communication in Spanish. This is indeed early evidence that the Ministry of Education has already had a good return on its financial investment in my professional development and second language acquisition!

Frond Farewells

2009-04-21T00:44:00.000-07:00

When I first arrived at my home-in-Parana-for-a-month, the first thing I noticed was a large fern and palm growing together in a small garden in a small courtyard between the garage and house.

"http://helenkayos.blogspot.com/2009/03/back-to-frond.html"

My immediate reaction was, "Hey! That's a koru!" which was interesting because in New Zealand, fern plants don't leap out at me, grabbing my attention, demanding patriotic recognition - such as this fern-in-Parana did every time I passed it. I guess it's not until you leave New Zealand that you realise what it is that tweaks your sense of national identity.

You can imagine how this logo below grabbed my eye at new shopping complex at Santa Fe, over or under the river. (There is a tunnel that goes under the river between the two cities). It's a sports shop, particularly rugby, it appears. Find the koru here.

On my last day with my Parana family, the fern frond had unfolded and was now stretched out and ready start growing its leafy bits. Such is the metaphor of my language learning experience in Argentina!

(From Wikipedia) The koru is the Māori name given to the new unfurling fern frond and symbolises new life, growth, strength and peace. It is an integral symbol in Māori carving and tattoos. Koru can also refer to bone carvings. Those generally take the shape of the uncurling fern plant. When bone is worn on the skin, it changes colour as oil is absorbed. The Māori took this to symbolise that the spirit of the person was inhabiting the pendant.

When someone gives a pendant to someone else, it is the custom that they wear it for a time so that part of their spirit is given as well. (Take note those of you who received a pendant from me).

Check out the link below which will take you to Google Images for more examples of koru.

"http://images.google.com/images?hl=EN&q=koru+symbol&btnG=Search+Images&gbv=2&aq=f&oq="

So, anyway, I'm now back in New Zealand, trying to catch up on sleep and schoolwork and with friends and family to give out the prezzies (regalitos) I bought for them in Argentina. I also want to account for the last few days in Argentina as there were some pretty special moments which need remembering.

On Thursday, my English class with Gabriela started with farewell pastries and my cultural contribution of Vegemite on crackers. One person commented that it was a bit like caviar which I could honestly say that I understood his comparison. (A long long time ago, on a training college trip to Noumea, I was at event where crackers topped by a dark substance were being handed around. Oh how quaint, I thought, somewhat naively, Vegemite on crackers. Eventually I found out that a small amount of caviar had been completely wasted on my uneducated palate.)

After morning classes, I went shopping with AFS contact and STEP teacher Gabriela who took me to get a beautiful stainless steel bracelet resized for me. It was a gift from Mariela and Gabriela, along with some fabulous Argentine music CDs and some children's songs CDS in Spanish. This was wonderful as I'd been so confused by the range available in the music shop that I couldn't make any decisions myself. (I am writing this with the "Los Nocheros" CD playing in the background and it's just soooooooo reminding me of Argentina!).

Many of the shops in Parana are quite small and boutique-like and I wonder how they can all survive with so many other little shops selling similar products. To get into the jeweller's you had to knock on the door and be allowed in. I think there might have been a few shops like this in Parana and probably elsewhere. Melisa and I went into a reasonably large shop that sold beautiful leatherware and likewise we had to knock on the door for it to be unlocked.

Family member Melisa has her own shop, and celebrated her fifth anniversary by having the shop repainted and some refitting done over Easter. She sells gorgeous clothes which can all be mixed and matched.(Labels: Silenzio, Yagmour, Ver & Taal Equipe) Her shop is called "Mia" and is at 25 de junio 83, Parana, Entre Rios. Phone 0343 4217141. (25 de junio 83 is actually the name of the road.)I bought some tops for me for winter and a few prezzies which will remain undescribed as the recipients don't know about these yet. I also bought some fun coloured socks which were very cosy to wear on the plane- and I wish I had bought more. If you are in Parana you should go and shop there as the clothes are lovely and so is Melisa. She also keeps a large jar of lollies (candy) under the counter so ask for one next time you are in her shop.

Thursday night was my last Spanish lesson with Peter and Adriana and I had to read out my homework, in Spanish, which was to describe the typical characteristics of Argentine men and women. Somewhat limited by vocabulary and extensive research opportunities I came up with:

Argentine men are pleasant and handsome. They like sports, especially football and basketball. They like asado also. Argentine women are very beautiful and thin. They like perfumes and shoes and they love shopping.

Adriana advised that Argentine women also love buying handbags! We also learned the "pretorito pluscuamperfecto tense" i.e. When I arrived at my home, Mariano had prepared the asado. (see previous post,"We'll Meat Again"). A very helpful tense when you want to find something has already been done by the time you get home. Which was quite useful, because by the time I did get home, cousin Mariano was indeed lovingly and skilfully preparing the asado for Daniel's birthday and family gathering.
Peter, the AFS student from Iowa, me and Adriana - evidence that Argentine women are indeed thin and beautiful. Peter is the only other English-as-a-first-language speaker I met the entire time I was at Parana, and even then we found it difficult understanding each other.

On Friday I didn't go to school at all and spent the morning shopping, visiting the cathedral and the Escuela Normal with Melisa.(see previous posts). In the evening I went to Carmen's for a STEP teachers' get-together. When family member Alejandro asked me what I had done on Friday night, (apart from me totally misunderstanding him and regaling him with what I was going to be doing on Saturday night) I eventually was able to reply with, “ There were 8 women teachers from STEP sitting around the table discussing diets and then we ate pizza and cake.” So once again, the similarities between Argentina

and

New Zealand

are greater than the differences. (Note for Chrisssy-the-previous-AFS-MoE-teacher-in-Parana-from-NZ…that was at Carmen’s home where you, of course, stayed last year, and the evidence of which you have already found on Yolanda’s Facebook.)

Empanadas - jamon y queso (ham and cheese) and usually in a semicircle shape. These ones were really cute and, as always, very nice to eat.

Carmen and pizza.

Chocolate and dulce de leche cake... with frosting.There are some serious calories attached to this cake.

On Saturday morning I packed my bags and prepared to go home. In the afternoon I went with Melisa to her Rikudim (Israeli folk dance) class- which was great to watch and to listen to also, and then I went with Mirta to pick up the cakes for the evening party. Mirta drove and I held one large high cake-with-very-soft-icing-whipped-into-peaks on my lap and helped another torte balance on the top of the dashboard. If she stopped suddenly or turned a corner too tightly - I would be wearing cake, literally. Both cakes had white frosting made with egg white and sugar. It looks like an uncooked pavlova mixture and is pretty rich to eat, as is any self-respecting cake in Argentina.

That Saturday night I had two parties to attend. The first one was at Roxana's from STEP and this was one of my "Tests" where I organised the taxis to and from there myself. Roxana has the most gorgeous home with lots of colours and pictures and interesting things on the wall (with one new addition now, from NZ). It reminded me of a fairy-tale cottage on the inside. We had a whole range of delightful nibbly bits and exquisite sandwiches, each coming out one at a time rather than all the food on the table at once. Roxana's daughter had also made the most beautiful cake too, a piece of which I took with me because I just couldn't keep up with all the eating required.

The guests

Round one of the nibbly bits.

Then I rang and got another taxi to take me back to my home for my very last night and another party with friends of Daniel and Mirta for Daniels' birthday... and more food, including more fabulous desserts with dulce de leche and a particularly nice lemon cheesescake. Some of the people I had already met but I bravely introduced myself to others and was able to maintain a reasonable level of conversation. Thank goodness for interesting family and friends! Over the course of a month, because I was repeating the same information on my family and friends to many different people, I acquired a reasonable level of fluency in this area. People would often comment on how well I was speaking Castellano and then, when we moved onto another area of conversation, I was often lost and unable to contribute.

There was more food, and inevitably, more cakes. See below:

The lemon cheesecake, made by one of the guests, Mirta's famous bread pudding dessert, the dulce de leche torte and below, yet another cake with frosting:

The party continued with most of the men at the table singing Argentine songs, all of which were unknown to me yet all instantly recognisable as Argentine. Several took turns to play the guitar and it was a wonderful way to end my last night in Argentina. My contribution was, (with the guitar) to sing one verse each of Tu Tira Mai, Po Kare Kare Ana and Po Ata Rau (Now is the Hour), which were well received and made me feel very relieved that I could contribute on a cultural equivalent.

In keeping with any self-respecting South American party, I finally got to bed at about 4am the next day.

A Few Final Random Observations:

- When having everyday conversations with people overseas, it is a good idea to know the current price of petrol, the average price of houses, the price of meat (of considerable importance in Argentina), and a few other supermarket staple foods for comparison. I wished I had taken a supermarket docket with me.

- Having the weather, time and NZ dollar value compared to the American dollar and Argentine peso "gadgets" on the desktop of my computer was always interesting and meant I could easily give accurate and simple information about NZ when needed.

- Houses (in Parana and probably many other places in Argentina) on the outside can often be just plain walls right on the footpath, with perhaps a closed shutter or two and then a main door, or double doors - but no hint as to what lies behind them. But sometimes the door opens into a courtyard with rooms off to the sides, or a huge open sunny room with skylights or a delightful cosy home. There are not nearly as many windows as NZ houses (weather and security reasons I guess, and most windows have shutters and certainly few houses are on sections surrounded by grass and garden. Security is very obvious and most homes have bars or some other added form of security around any accessible entrance to the house.

- Most houses have some form of security alarm. Some houses have a perimeter alarm also which can be on all day or night while you are still inside the house. You just need to know which windows are connected to the alarm!

- When there are a lot of couples at a party, it seems inevitable that the men will sit in one area discussing men’s business and the women will gather in another area discussing women’s business. Another universal truth!

- Farms in Argentina have huge round haybales similar to NZ. Fields are huge and were probably for cropping as I never saw any cows or other bovine evidence between Parana and Buenos Aires although there were miles and miles of fields. It's not to say they weren't there.

- What we in NZ would call left-overs or "bubble and squeak" in Argentina it is known as "ropa vieja" or "old clothes" . What asado you don't eat on one night will taste even better the next day for lunch.

- The combined adventures of Veronica-from-Wellington and me, from our homes in Argentina to New Zealand are worthy of their own final post, which could probably also be my final post my intrepid exploration of language learning in Argentina.

Watch this space.

Plane Sailing?

2009-04-19T23:34:00.001-07:00

Well here we (Veronica from Wellington and I) are at BA airport, two hours after our plane should have left.... waiting and waiting with five minutes of power left on my computer.

After a 6 hour bus trip from Parana for me and a 10 and a half hour bus trip from Cordoba for Veronica, we finally met up at the BA bus station and jammed in an old taxi, with all our luggage plus an AFS volunteer , without using the boot or safety belts because access to both was impossible.

Looking forward to finally landing safely in NZ.

When the Going Gets Tough

2009-04-19T18:42:00.000-07:00

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!

We´ll Meat Again

2009-04-18T08:00:00.000-07:00

No, it´s not a spelling mistake.

This post is dedicated to the manly art of asado. Many (most/all?) ) houses have an asado area, and for some, it´s a complete second kitchen in a covered outdoor area. This is serious stuff needing some serious asado-ware. This post is for meat eaters only. Vegetarians or the squeamish should avoid reading this. The men tend to do the asado which is lovingly, bordering on reverently prepared. All parts of the beast (bovine including veal or ternera) go on the asado, and it is best not to look too closely or wonder too much about the origin of each shape - or colour of the meat.

This is the some of the extended family and friends gathered for Daniel´s birthday. This is the covered area just outside the house and the asado preparation and sink can be seen behind.

This is how you approach an asado - and once that lot is finished, it gets topped up again. This is cousin Sebastien.

First - prepare the coals.
Try and identify the body parts if you can,. This is veal or ternera.

This is cousin Mariano who lovingly and seriously prepared the asado. It was a work of art- right down to the carving and presenting of the meat.

This is Daniel at a previous asado for a smaller gathering.

This is the asado area.

These are just some of the options:

.... and now for something completely different....

Below is the Catholic Cathedral in the main square of Parana. It´s style, according to an architect student friend of Melisa, is ¨eclectic.¨

I went inside while having a wander around the city yesterday and found myself at the end of the sermon and then holy communion. I sat at the back , (or stood or kneeled - just followed everyone else) and listened and was able to pick up a bit because, the preparation for communion is pretty universal. The inside is magnificent and reminded me of all those cathedrals we visited in Europe. It is huge inside and there were people coming and going quietly without disturbing the flow. Seeing I will miss the monthly church service at Otaua tomorrow, and seeing I´ve got 13 hours on an airplane to look forward to with my usual trepidation- it seemed like a good idea to spend some time in quiet contemplation and to put in a polite request for a safe trip.

There were two women sitting in the doorway begging as people came in and out. It didn´t seem right to just walk past them - especially mindful of the irony of just being on the presence of Jesus-who-cared-for-the-beggars, however, I watched what everyone else did and quietly followed suit - and stepped around them without making eye-contact. I had to reassure myself that I´m here to fit in and not to change the world - but it was still an uncomfortable feeling after having spent a few righteous minutes previously. However, I had already avoided beggars in the biggie of all Catholic cities (Rome) a few years ago so it was another opportunity to practise the "When in Rome, do as the Romans do...." principle.

¨¿Who are you, who-oo, oo-oo?¨ (Cue C.S.I. theme music)

2009-04-18T07:17:00.001-07:00

Check out the new heading ... I have just learned how to add a photo. This is so that family can recognise me at the airport, and to provide evidence that I have met some of the intercultural objectives during my one month here.

You will observe three recognisable Argentine icons: the blue and white sports shirt, (in this case, rugby), a tray of empanadas (in this case ham and cheese filling in pastry, baked) and asado. Here is your sleeping dog photo for today. This guy just fell asleep in the middle of the footpath because it was mid day and siesta time. Such self-assuredness is not often seen in NZ dogs. You can see someone walking past behind him. I´m sure these dogs would bite, and I´m sure house-dogs would bite, but these guys don´t seem to go looking for trouble.

I´d love to know who has been reading my blog as the counter is clicking over. I´ve only got one more day left in Argentina and then, missing a day, arrive back in NZ on Tuesday morning... Hopefully, I can add a few more pictures and anecdotes - it just depends on accessibility to an internet-friendly computer.

Feel free to leave a message or comment - check out the small print at the bottom of the post to work out how to do it , or email me at kayosnz@yahoo.com .

Also, to all those of you in Argentina who I said I would love to talk to you on Skype -my username is kayvincent otherwise, just search my name and the country ¨New Zealand¨.

Black to School

2009-04-17T13:59:00.000-07:00

While you have just completed your first week of holiday (teaching colleagues and students in NZ) I have been going to two different schools a day. I know, I’m not sensing any sympathy over this.

For the past two weeks I have been going every day for a few hours to the CAE school which is a private school attached to a sports club with a rugby field and swimming pool. It seems most of the boys play rugby or football and most of the girls play hockey and most of the students are passionate about sports. The school is only about 8 years old and goes from kindergarten to high school. It has upstairs and ground level classrooms with an external staircase and a long verandah running the length of the school. As with all the classrooms I have seen in Argentina so far, they are smaller than those of NZ but the numbers of students are fewer and furniture is mainly desks and chairs so the need for extra space is not as great. There is a lot more echo in the rooms than I have been used to because the surfaces are concrete or other hard materials.
CAE is made mostly of concrete blocks, painted white, and concrete floors.

The school has a very wide door/gate which is locked and to get in I have to ring a bell. I didn’t see the bell the first time I went there by myself, so had to ring Marcela, my contact, to let me in. Sylvina, the secretary and English tutor elsewhere, was a fantastic help too, and was able to find classes for me to go and generally help me find my way around. I gave her a copy of Ellis´s 10 Principles of Second Language Aquisition and a copy of An Intercultural Stance - The 6 Principles of Intercultural Communicative Language Teaching and Learning so an intercultural and pedagogical moment was also shared .

I spent some time with English classes right throughout the school. One of the most confident speakers in English was a German exchange student (learning Castellano in a school in Argentina! – I thought that was amusing).

This school runs right throughout the day with no early closing or siesta break but has different times for each section of the school to have breaks. I taught several classes “My Roadside Goat”, a bit of a silly song which I’ve done with schools for years and which I had previously filmed (había grabo en video ¿Did I get the pretérito pluscaumaperfecto correct, Adriana?) amiga Viv singing with the kids at The Gardens School to show how it should sound. It’s great for learning the past tense – I need a similar song in Spanish – and is easy to learn because every line is repeated after the teacher. They had a lot of fun with it and I have filmed one group singing along with my computer, joining in with The Gardens School kids and Viv. Another intercultural gem!

These students speak English so well, at whatever level they are learning. They loved the chance to ask me questions and it didn’t matter if it was the same question over an over again, they all got a chance to use English in an “authentic context’. I have been asked what is my favourite colour, my favourite animal, my favourite number, my address, age and family statistics. And then I ask them the same question back. When asked my age, I used my grandmother’s standard response, “ I am the same age as my tongue and a little bit older than my teeth,” which takes a while for kids in any language to work out – and then I tell them I am 21 because they want to hear a number. Kids would come up to me shyly, often with a friend, and say, “Hello, What is your name?” or any of the aforementioned questions, and then I was swamped by a gathering mass of young students during recreo with the same questions asked again. They would have asked different questions but they, like me, were working on a limited set of formulaic questions, responses and vocabulary.

When I brought out my silver fern on black background flag, there was instant recognition and many of the boys just had to touch it, breathing “All Black Flag” in reverent and awe-inspired tones. There was no similar response when I showed them the official NZ flag, and I’m sure that must say a lot about the branding of NZ in Argentina, if not the rest of the world. I brought some stickers of NZ icons to give out randomly as we do in NZ and now I wished that I had brought more stickers of the All Black jersey as they are by far the most popular. Even in my adult English classes, when I gave people the chance to choose a sticker for their books/cellphone etc, the rugby jersey was the most popular, even if only to take home for a son or nephew who played or followed rugby.

I was able to sit in on some other lessons including geography, computer and drama (for classes the same age I teach in NZ), where the teachers spoke no English and explained to me what the students were doing and learning. I went to lunch with a group of students on one day, at the club restaurant, where I had two hamburger patties, some fried rice and an apple and a lot of interesting conversations. Some of the boys were pretty keen to talk to me because I tell them I like rugby- but then I am expected to tell them who my favourite All Black is. I usually ask them who theirs is first then reply, me too.

A drama class at CAE school . The boy with his arms out is a shower (and a passionate rugby player) and the one underneath... is showering.

These are some of the girls from CAE who had lunch with me.

I brought with me several of Laura’s “Smoke Free – Smoking, not our Future” posters and these are now on classroom walls around Paraná exhorting the youth of this city not to smoke. We have had fun translating them and some students can now say “Aye?” because on DJ Sir-Vere’s poster, he says, “It’s just not a good look, aye!” For once it meant I knew something in English that the English teachers didn’t know. The teachers of English here are so proficient in their knowledge of vocabulary and grammar, and fluently reel off the names and parts of tenses or speech when referring to them in the course of a lesson. Just about everyone who is brave enough to speak English with me has a better grasp of my language than I have of theirs. But, I know that I am learning and today I was able to use the past tense correctly without referring to my book for confirmation. This has not stopped me from attempting to use the past tense previously, it just means that now I am starting to make sense. I was able to say quite accurately that “I bought (Compré)…..and then I needed to look up the word for socks!”

On one day, I went with a lovely young teacher (also called Mélisa) to her second school which was a public school back in the middle of the city. We caught a bus and then went to a school which is two floors up in a large building. I think another school takes up the first two floors. These students, about Year 11, had only been learning English for a while and were a lot noisier and boisterous than other students I had come across – they were also a lot more facially pierced and did not wear a uniform. In spite of this, they were not rude or disrespectful to the teacher at all. Their English was quite basic as they had not started at primary school and not many were keen to have a go at asking me questions.
Melisa -the-teacher (not the Melisa with whom I am staying) and her class of English students at one of the public schools in Parana.

Mélisa brought out some of the Smokefree merchandise rulers and pens I had given her and if a student wanted one they had to ask me a question in English, or they had to say a simple speech about them self in Castellano and English for me to film for my students in NZ. All the merchandise went! These students were more inclined to follow football, and one was able to explain to me what Cumbia music was by letting me listen to his ipod which he found more interesting than me for most of the lesson. Teacher Mélisa, was absolutely lovely and I am so pleased I got a chance to meet her and go to a totally different kind of school.

Today, my host Mélisa took me to an amazing old school in the middle of the city. It’s like a cross between the Auckland War Memorial Museum, the Auckland Town Hall and a bit of Harry Potter – except in need of maintenance as so many building in Paraná seem to be. It’s called Escuela Normal, and it goes from kindergarten to university level and has, apparently over 5000 students through it a day. It is about to celebrate its 135th anniversary and boasts the oldest kindergarten in Latin America, originally started by teachers from the US. There are some cabinets of historical artefacts and trophies of past students who have achieved significance nationally or beyond. There is a grand marble stair case as soon as you walk in the door and the steps have worn down over the years though the amount of traffic over them. Some of the furniture is incredibly old and has been there for many years. There is the most glorious stained glass window and an internal courtyard.

The kindergarten playground, on the roof top at the Escuela Normal. Spot the differences.

This is one of the Junior Classrooms at the Escuela Normal Public School - it is several flights of stairs up.

This poster was on one of the notice boards - for any Oasis fans

This poster was on one of the notice boards - for any Oasis fans

This is some of the ¨antique¨furniture which is still used on some of the classrooms at Escuela Normal.

This is the view from one of the levels down to the ground level.,

This is the beautiful stained glass window.

There are so many differences between schools in NZ and Argentina, but teachers and students are pretty similar with the same stresses and challenges everywhere I think.

Random observations::
- Twink or white liquid eraser seems to be the graffiti medium of preference here.

- Students wear a lot of jewellery or accessories if they want to.

- I am now able to cross a road with reasonable confidence and do not need to wait for someone else to cross before I realise it is ¨safe¨for me to cross.

- I´m pretty sure I can find my way back home from at least three different points in town.

- I am starting to bump into people I know - after one month!

¡Feliz Cumpleaños Para Laura en NZ y Daniel en Parana!

2009-04-16T08:29:00.000-07:00

It's the 17th of April in NZ and the 16th of April here in Argentina. In NZ it is daughter Laura's 23rd birthday and in Parana it is my host. Daniel's *cough, cough, cough, hand over mouth, sorry if you missed that number* birthday.

Please excuse this personal indulgence, dear readers.

So, Happy Birthday to both of you.

Laura you will have to wait until I get home for your present, but here is something which I hope will do for the meantime. It's your own personal greeting from a class of students at the Instituto del Club Athletico Estudiantes de Parana.

They are looking at our family photo on my computer desk-top. The general opinion is that you are very beautiful and that you look like me... join the dots on that one! (People also say that Julian is good looking and looks like his father.)

I hope you have a great day.

Getting Tense With Verbs - or Living in the Past

2009-04-15T17:36:00.000-07:00

This is the second post of the day so make sure you read the previous one first. I seem to be having major troubles transferring blogs from my laptop via pen-drive to another computer to get the internet.

And now for the verbose part..

Daniel and Mirta (host family) have helped me so much to learn Castellano that I probably owe well over half of my working vocabulary to them. Daniel didn’t think he had much English but we frequently use a mixture of both English and Castellano and we occasionally resort to a French word when it can better explain our ideas or identify a word easier. Needs must when the flow of conversation and communication is more important than 100% accuracy, especially in a busy family with lots of comings and goings.

Melisa speaks English well and we use a mixture of both, although we usually use English when confirming comprehension of specific meeting places and times and when talking on the phone to each other. When people are busy, I am particularly mindful of how time-consuming communicating with me in Castellano can be! Mirta is very strict about my learning and doesn’t use English at all with me although she can speak a little. She speaks very clearly and slowly to me and has a really good way of keeping explanations or questions simple … and she doesn’t mind repeating things syllable by syllable if necessary and she has excellent diction. I can’t expect everyone to be so patient with me all the time, especially when they can get their meaning across easier in English when in a hurry, so I really appreciate her time and effort.

Although I understand the masculine and feminine endings of words, singulars and plurals, etc, I frequently make lots of mistakes in my efforts to speak a bit faster than laboriously word by word with “ums” and “arrs” in between. Daniel and Mirta patiently and tolerantly correct me and explain rules to me and off I go again. Likewise with verb endings in the present tense.

Note to self: The next time I go to tell a student, “I’ve told you this several times before…blah, blah, blah….” I will remember these moments of feeling really “dumb” because knowing something does not necessarily mean you can use it or do it spontaneously.

I have been using a small and invaluable phrase book to help me with standard and predictable vocabulary and phrases. The three pages on common regular and irregular verbs have been well thumbed and I frequently stop mid-sentence to open my book and search for the correct verb ending. For the life of me, I cannot remember them and I make the same mistakes over and over again. Paul-from-Hamilton-who-is-staying-in-La Plata told me that he frequently says, from his limited vocabulary, that his “head is broken”. I use the saying. “My disc is full” to indicate that I can’t take on board any more information.

So I have usually been talking in the present tense and use the word for “yesterday” or “tomorrow” or similar to indicate past or future. It must be excruciating for people trying to listen to me but, mercifully, it’s often a mutual arrangement as I spend as much of my time speaking in English to people wanting to practise with a “real” speaker, as I do in Castellano. It is a very small price to pay in return for all the help I have had. And then, sometimes things suddenly fall into place and I have a new formulaic phrase to use and off I go with a small burst of proficiency.

There is a 2 year old member (Sophia) of the extended family who is at that “sponge” stage of soaking up everything around her and then surprising people by coming out with expressions and opinions which totally stun everyone and she is now at the stage where the family think she is a wee genius, as does the family of most other two year-olds world-wide. I feel very much like Sophia, who has been watching, listening and processing, then making intelligible pronouncements when all the information makes sense. It feels great when people comment on how much better I am getting at speaking and understanding Castellano.

I have had 2 Spanish lessons so far with Peter, the AFS student and Adriana, who is a Spanish English translator and a teacher at STEP. She learned British English as opposed to American English that most other people speak here and she has the most beautiful ¨Spinglish¨ accent which I love listening to. I have been learning the past tense (pretorito perfecto y pretorito impefecto) as I have pretty much been stuck in the present tense since I have been here. We had a truly “intercultural language” moment when I was trying to explain something to Peter in English, and the word ‘leg’ was necessary. He could not understand me repeating, “leg…. leg … you know, leg.. L-E-G…” and in the end he said, “¡Oh, pierna!” which is Spanish for…leg. He could not understand my English accent and we had to move into Spanish for mutual comprehension. Such is the difference between American pronunciation and New Zealand pronunciation of the same word.

I also helped Adraiana’s English by suggesting she say, “Hang on” instead of “ Wait” every time she needed to pause. Peter said this was OK in American English too.

Update: I can now discuss rugby and colder weather with taxi drivers. My conversations were previously limited to expressing opinions on heat. I think I have discussed rugby more in Castellano than in English.

So, anyway, on Easter Sunday I went for a Sunday Drive with Daniel and Mirta to Santa Fe on the other side of the river. Just about all of the day was conducted in Castellano, including a description of how the tunnel under the river actually goes under the ground as well; and how there was a severe flood a few years ago which inundated part of Santa Fe but not Parana.

We went for lunch at a new shopping/hotel/casino complex and afterwards checked out the Casino. I am a “remedial” gambler in that I need help to get started rather than to stop gambling. After watching Mirta and helping her lose a few pesos, I frivolously parted company with 50 pesos (about $25NZ) and was lured into winning about $80 pesos… and I should have stopped there, I guess. I’m still not sure how the game worked, I just randomly pushed a few buttons which Mirta suggested…. until I lost the whole lot. However, I did learn a new word that day (I lost – perdi ) so all was not lost after all. My limited vocabulary could only come up with, “The casino ate my money.” (El casino comió mi dinero…note the correct use of the past tense!)

My lovely, generous and oh-so-patient hosts, Mirta and Daniel.

Some culture is universal....

Fast food in Argentina

Sunday was completed with an asado by Daniel and delicious-as-always dessert by Mirta – which was, I think made with bread, for a gathering of family and friends.

Random Observations

I have met so many young people who are so well-educated or in the process of their studies. There are doctors, lawyers, pilots, psychologists, nurses, bio engineers, computer software designers and so on come to STEP, or other private institutes to learn English. Also, university education is completely free in Argentina, apparently. Last night at the conversation class I met a young woman of 21 years old who is studying bio-engineering and working on a project to put implants into people to help them control prosthetic legs better –so people could run with prosthetic legs if they so desired … (that piece of information is for Clive – hope all is going well now that you are back home).

Toilet paper seems to be very thin in Argentina – and runs out very quickly (refer to previous warning to ALWAYS carry tissues).

And, while still on toilets…so to speak… teachers apparently use the same toilets as students in most schools. No preferential treatment.

And, moving slightly off the toilet… many bathrooms and some public toilets include bidets. These, (and I think I always knew this but never had a chance to prove it) do not make good footbaths as there are too many taps to operate and water coming from too many directions to successfully manage while balancing on one foot when the other foot is trying to hold down the water spurting upwards, onto the ceiling and the floor.

It is unsafe, and only slightly less suicidal than throwing yourself under a moving train, to use a pedestrian crossing in Paraná. Do not be fooled by the white striped lines -they are for decorative purposes only.

There are lots of small and large memorials to people and events, and many schools named after people of significance. Many roads are named after dates for example: 25 de junio is the name of a road.

Roads are not called roads – they just have names like: Nogoya, 25 de mayo, Malvinas, Nux, Panama, Belgrano etc. (You would appreciate the clarity and size of the road signs here, Mark.)

Interim Report ...

2009-04-12T15:47:00.000-07:00

I´ve mucked up my settings somehow on this particular post and couldn't get my text or photos right... so I´ve started all over again! Grrrrrr! Hopefully it makes sense.

The river beach at Parana.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_OMdqMo5iWw This is a Youtbe video of Parana... you might like to check it out and get an idea of wht it is like here.

Wednesday 15^{th April}

Feliz Cumpleaños to God Daughter Rhianon in Broken Hill, Australia,and to brother Dean for the 10th and sister-in-law April for the 11th. Anyone else I´ve foergotten?

All of a sudden my time here is nearly over and I have a dizzy social calendar for the rest of the week… even with a few double bookings. I have not been able to get near a computer recently and when I have... the internet wasn´t cooperating.

It was great to catch up with “mi mejor amiga”, Viv, at 8 am my time and 10pm her time this morning, especially as the 15^th of April is a special day for her for the anniversary of the passing away of her dear friend, Chris. Every 15^th of April we have a coffee together to remember her and this year, in Argentina, I was lucky enough to be having pastries and coffee for breakfast with the class of computer software graduates and to talk with Viv at the same time. So, to remember Chris and to share the moment with Viv, I waved the plate of pastries in front of the computer and by the miracle of Skype... she could see them. And, the students were able to help Viv with a word she needed for her Spanish assignment that she was doing at the time so, again, a spontaneous intercultural moment was had. I have been having an English conversation class with these people two mornings a week from 7.30 -8.30am for the past month. To start with, I talked to them about NZ or showed photos and for the last few times they have each brought photos of their favourite places in Argentina to tell me about. Mathïas brought photos of some of the fish he had caught in the Parana River and we all joked that he had more photos of fish than of his girlfriend.

I was also able to catch up with sister Lynn , on Skype, this morning my time, and she was able to say hi across the world to the class too and we late had abit of a catch up on family events.

A summary of events to date:

Easter was spent quietly and mostly indulgently. I decided I didn’t want to go on another travel jaunt as I wanted to see a bit more of Parana and just have a bit of a break, as I will go pretty much straight back from here into preparation for school when I get home. Also, much as the purpose of my stay here is to be “immersed” in the language and culture, it is really difficult relying on people to help you out when they are not expecting to find a non-Castellano speaker on a bus tour planned for Castellano speakers.

Interestingly, even though so many people here can speak some degree of English, I have only met one English-as-a-first-language speaker in Parana during my whole month here. There is an AFS student called Peter, from Iowa, at the Escuela a del Club Athletico Estudiantes that I have been going to for part of the day since last week.

On Friday Mélisa and I walked along the Costanera (the river front) Well, Mélisa jogged and I walked. There are several private beaches along the river side and other places where you can cook your own asado and have family picnics. Because it is a river beach, trees grow in the sand beside the river. I have difficulty getting my head around trees growing in the sand on a beach but I am used to ocean beaches, not river beaches. The water is quite brown and it almost looks as if the boats are sailing in milk chocolate as in the Cadburys ad on tv. A lot of soil comes down the river from Misiones where the earth is quite red so the river is always a brown colour.

Check out the chocolate river.... It´s not like beach sand at all. Couldn´t resist another sleeping dog photo... These guys clip clop around the city picking through the rubbish...and I think they might collect stuff for recycling. They do not appear to be well-liked or trusted.

On Saturday afternoon I visited one of the girls in one of my English classes and her friend. They wanted to practise speaking English with an authentic speaker and I was happy to oblige… there was a home-made cake and a cup of tea involved and Agustina, Luisina and her family were, typically, delightful. Agustina and Luisina both study international relations and political science at university. Luisina’s mother is an obstetrician at Parana hospital so we had some interesting conversations in a mixture of English and Spanish. They were able to demonstrate mate drinking for a film clip... see below and then Luisina’s friend, a medical student from university in Cordoba, dropped me back home in time to go out to another basketball match with the family.

How to drink mate.....

The basketball match was won bny a wide margin by Sionista (home team) and then, at 11.30 I went with Daniel. Mirta and Blanca (Mirta´s mother) for dinner. I could not, at that hour of the night, eat a large meal and I was tired so had a salad and chips. The town was full of people and, interestingly, quite a few really young primary school age children out and about.

First thing on Easter Sunday, I opened my little parcel from Viv, which she had left me with strict instructions not to open until Easter Sunday.... Joyful Day! Lindt Easter Eggs! I resisted temptation to demolish them there and then and put them on hold for the next family dinner.

A Very Good Friday

2009-04-11T05:28:00.000-07:00

People are always wanting to ask me about my family (in English and Castellano) because asking for and supplying personal information is one of the first things people tend to learn in structured lessons in another language. I have to reply using simple vocabulary, because I only have a limited repertoire of Spanish, or they may only have a limited English vocabulary. So, one class was asking me about my son (Julian 18 years) and I was explaining that he has been at home playing and composing music on the guitar, drums and computer for most of the year, that he is a ¨good¨boy and helps out at home in return for this self-indulgent interlude in his career path. However, he is now staying with his godmother in the outback of Australia, helping her in her Motel. (See one of my earlier posts for more info. Not sure how to organise direct link).

Anyway, Roxana, the English tutor of the class, told me that Julian reminded her of her son, Juan, who is in a rock band (La Posta) on the point of releasing their first CD. (Again, refer earlier post for link to You Tube).

On Friday night, (Good Friday) Roxana invited me to her home for dinner (empanadas - very Argentine) with her delightful family. We then went, with the 83 year old abuela (rock-granny!) to a ¨gig¨at the local arts venue, which had once been the train station. Great place but my camera batteries had flattened, so no images. Juan, and Roxana´s son-in-law were to be guest performers at another (Astro Bonzo)band´s gig. Apparently when they are each playing in each other´s home town, they do guest spots for each other. It was a great performance... I realised that the main act must have been a band of some success as they had their own roadie to-ing and fro-ing with equipment. All the songs seemed to be originals until the drummer did an amazingly long and exhausting drum solo which very nicely segued into Led Zep´s ¨Whole Lotta Love¨. Now that I could understand. It was brilliant and the best version I´ve heard since seeing the original at Western Springs many years ago. I would hazard a guess and say that I would have been the only one there who would have ever seen Led Zep perform live. By this stage, I had run out of battery for my camera and I wish I had taken spares. However, Julian, I tried to get the Marshall amp in the picture for you.

Roxana and her 83 year old mother-rock-granny and I were standing and had a good view. It was a reasonably small venue (about the size of the Waiuku Town Hall, for those of you playing at home) and it wasn´t too crowded. Although it was loud, it was an excellent sound... and I´m sure Mark, Laura and Julian would have enjoyed it and been able to discuss the music´s merits far better than I could. The lead singer was fascinating to watch - a brilliant front man in a Mick-Jaggeresque way with postures and strutting and some potentially dangerous moves with a microphone stand. He looked a little Jesus-like (would be an excellent choice for JC Superstar) which seemed appropriate for a Good Friday gig. In my pursuit of investigating what is Argentine culture, I noticed that people didn´t seem to dance or move around to the music, they were more inclined to sit or stand and watch - although everyone was enjoying it and cheered loudly and appropriately as required. No one seemed at all surprised to see an obviously elderly person at the concert (the abuela, not me!).

I have a ¨hot off the press¨ copy of the CD by La Posta (Juan´s band) called ¨Raices¨which means roots ... I think, and I am looking forward to playing it loudly at home. It sounds excellent on my computer and I´m sure you will like it, Mark and Julian.

Spot the Marshall amp in the far right hand corner, Julz.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e4AWIosJYP8 Here is a link to the band ¨Astro Bonzo¨ doing ¨Whole Lotta Love¨ somewhere else last year. It's obviously not at its best through a computer, but you´ll get the idea.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QhPlg6lcpZI Here is a link to You tube with the song that Juan and Licho from La Posta did with Astro Bonzo at a previous gig. My film clip is resisting uploading.

Sleeping Dogs:

On Saturday morning, I bravely walked by myself from home to Mélisa´s shop. It is only a few blocks away, but all roads and most houses look similar to me so Daniel drew me a map and off I set. I passed a few stalls of ¨artesanos¨along the way and bought a few bits and pieces and eventually safely arrived at the destination. I did a bit of shopping, which takes surprisingly longer than expected when things may look the same superficially but require careful examination before committing to purchase. For example, I thought I had bought a CD of children´s songs in Spanish, when in actual fact, I discovered later on that day, that I had bought a CD of ambient music suitable for young children. Fortunately it was not too expensive a mistake.

I walked back home with Mélisa at 1pm (her shop closed until about 5pm) and I couldn´t help but notice dogs lying everywhere, in the shade, in blissful repose. It was as if, suddenly at one o´clock, all the dogs just drop and sleep. There were quite a few more, but I couldn´t stop and photograph them all... but you get the idea.

The following two pictures were taken of dogs along the river side walk at Paraná. One guy was taking his dog for a swim in the fountain and I caught him just as he was pulling the dog out. The river side is faintly like Mission Bay in Auckland, especially in the way people use it.

Almost literally, every man and his dog walk or jog along there. Families have picnics and groups of people meet and many people are sharing mate. Mindful of my previous observations and comments on the local dogs, I couldn´t resist this photo of a dog, exercising himself. He looked as purposeful as every other two-legged jogger. Leashes? Owners? Who needs them!

A few random observations:

- How would you try to explain the word ¨sea lion¨, understanding that a literal translation just doesn´t convey the right meaning? Yup! Some things you´ve just gotta demonstrate. Now picture trying to demonstrate the difference between sea lion and walrus. Likewise, how would you say, with few of the specific words needed to accurately describe an anatomically correct pukeko, that it has a tuft of white feathers under its tail. Then, I was trying to explain hot cross buns to someone who hadn´t seen them before ... how would you demonstrate the reason for a cross on the bun? (Shades of The Life of Brian). And, my personal favourite: Mirta (¨parent¨¨ and owner of my address in Parana) described her extended family´s Passover gathering at her mother´s house as a br.........l (avert your eyes, students) because there were about 25 people including active preschoolers and their accessories, food, dishes, chairs, two different tvs going with two different sports games, noise and general merriment. When asked if I understood what she meant, the nearest vocabulary I had to suggest a definition was translated into Spanish as ¨A house of agreeable women?¨

- Argentina has the most beautiful and varied scenery. People in Argentina have the impression that NZ is a most beautiful country ... but, there is nothing on a scenic NZ calendar than can not be equalled or bettered by somewhere in Argentina - it just takes a lot longer getting there in Argentina.

- So many people want to learn English because they feel it is vital in their job or for their future, but few of them see travel as realistically achievable. I have met so many people in Argentina who dream of travelling overseas but it seems to be such an impossible dream because of the current value of the peso.

- Every single taxi driver I have encountered in Paraná has been pleasant, helpful and some have given me cheaper rides when I didn´t have the correct small change. I use up to 5 taxis a day and they have all been quick to arrive and not a single driver has had a word of English apart from ¨All Blacks. Taxi air conditioning consists of an open window, seatbelts are impossible to find and their Castellano is inevitably a gravelly mumble not requiring lip movement. I am almost fluent in discussing the weather with taxi drivers. Fortunately for my communication skills, it has always been perishingly hot. There are several ¨safe¨taxi companies and I have been lucky that there has always been someone around who could make a telephone call for me as my Castellano over the phone to a taxi company would be pretty time-consuming.

Third Rock From the Sun ..Reporting in

2009-04-10T14:30:00.001-07:00

There are many times when I have felt like the alien family in that tv programme, “Third Rock From the Sun”, and that my blog and observations are my reports to “The Big Head”. This is because, in return for this unique opportunity, I am expected to demonstrate or give evidence of improved language acquisition, knowledge and understanding of the culture of my host country – especially when it is related to language experiences, and to recognise and relate my experiences to language teaching/learning pedagogy. I am here “sola” (alone) so I do not have the chance to immediately discuss or compare or share new experiences with anyone else from NZ so it is much easier to fit in as a member of the family/school/group rather than as a tourist and I just try to work things out as best I can.

It was difficult not to make judgements in the first few days when everything was new and the differences leap out– especially ones which make you feel uncomfortable or unsafe or where you want to say, “You know, if you did this…..” or, “Why don’t people…….?” or “Why don’t the police……? “ or “Why do the police….?” or, (my personal favourite) “Are they allowed to do that…?” After the initial shock (just as well AFS gave us a few pages of information on how to recognise and be aware of the realities and implications of culture shock) everything starts to seem normal and the reasons for things being the way they are start to unfold.

Sister Lynn had a similar experience returning to NZ from the West Australian outback for the Easter holidays. She said that she was really surprised to notice so many trees in the suburbs, so close to houses, while driving to the North Shore… and her instant reaction was, “How dangerous would that be in a bush fire!” But we don’t have bush fires that wipe out towns in Auckland.

On the tour, there were several times when the young boy born in Paris, the young woman from Venezuela and I had a different price to pay for venues or needed something extra on our visas at the borders. For example, Argentine nationals had to pay only $20 (pesos) to get into one National Park, when the “extranjeros” (foreigners) had to pay $60 (pesos). I think I got into one venue as a National but Claudio, the tour guide, said that I shouldn’t talk because I would definitely sound like an extranjero. At least, that’s what I think he said because I never understood a word he said before or after. [Important advice to anyone who ever has to speak to someone with marginal acquisition of your language…. Clear enunciation is everything!] I decided that “extraterrestre” (extraterrestrial) was a much better sounding word so that is what I called myself from then on.

Our first stop, once through the border, was at a huge bus-tour-group dining room which accommodated several colectivos (double-decker buses). Because people eat a full sit-down meal in the middle of the day, there was an enormous buffet for $25 (pesos) each. I only felt like a sandwich or a bread roll and wasn’t going to pay that much for a nibble (I know, some of you can’t believe my non-appetite in Argentina, or, in this case, in Brazil) so I joined Susana and her family for a piece of pizza down the road. The next day, the bus stopped at a different location with no other eating option nearby. Again, I could not face a full meal ( yup… believe it!) and asked the manager, in my most polite Castellano, if I could just pay for a bread bun and a drink because I could not eat a big meal while travelling. He said no, I had to buy the full meal, they did not sell items separately.

I said, “OK, how about I buy a $10 drink and you give me a complimentary bread roll.”

“No” …..

“So, you are telling me I have to pay $25 for a bread bun, and then pay extra for a drink? ¨

“ Si.”

Reminding myself that I was an “extraterrestre” making observations, and not a NZer expecting to demand or comment on good customer relations, I stalked off to sit at a table with a group of others. I had to stay inside as I would have been desiccated in about 15 minutes in the heat outside, and took smug satisfaction in the knowledge that I was using his air conditioning without payment. I would not buy a drink and politely turned down offers of bread from other people, trying to explain the meaning of the word, “martyr” in broken Castellano. This was best done by trying to mime Joan of Arc with words like “fuego” (fire) and “muerto” (dead) and “creo” (I believe). I have since learned that using the word “mártir” would have been a lot more efficient and taken up a lot less table space. I kept thinking, ¨This would never happen in Argentina!¨ because I have had unfailing pleasantness, helpfulness and generosity above and beyond the call of duty in Argentina. At the next stop I bought a bottle of water and a small packet of peanuts which sufficed… although I did get a bit concerned when my malaria tablet bottle top came off in the same plastic snap-bag as my peanuts.

A random comment here, while I think about it, about movies. We had 4 DVDs all up on the tour. During the middle of the night on the way to Iguacu, there was some killer-thriller movie that Mark would have loved and I usually would avoid- but there was no escape. It is a lot easier to watch a violent film when the sound track, although in English, is turned down so much that you get no clues to assist comprehension and you have to rely solely upon what you see and can read at speed in Spanish. I didn’t catch the name of it ( I have since discovered it was "Transporter III") but it had a guy who had some wrist band on that would explode and kill him if he did the wrong thing, and some girl who had to take a car somewhere. Lots of people died suddenly and gruesomely along the way and the hero got to survive underwater for a long time by breathing escaping air from his car tyre, and there was a train involved. I’m sure someone will know it. We also had “Wild Hogs” with no subtitles but dubbed in Spanish. John Travolta and Tim Allen just aren’t the same without their own voices – but the visual gags were easy enough to understand. Then there was one called “Eagle Eye” with subtitles, which I slept through, and then “The something or other of Benjamin Button” which was in audible English with Spanish subtitles… it was quite a delightful but wacky movie and I picked up a fair bit of Spanish vocab along the way … but fell asleep before the end.

Random photo of street stalls at Puerto Iguacu at night.

Close Encounters of the Third Kind:

My mejor-amiga-since-we-were-born, Vivienne, spent a month in Puerto Iguacu in 2007 on the same AFS programme as I am on now. She stayed with a teacher called Monica in her bedsit and shared her life, very closely, for the entire month. When Viv found out I was going to Iguacu, she tried to arrange a meeting between Monica and me. So, a few emails went three ways (Monica does not speak English). At the last minute, I found out that the tour was staying in the Brazil side of the falls so it looked like it was going to be a case of “So Near Yet So Far”.

On the Saturday night of our trip, we had the option of going back across the border to Puerto Iguacu to go to the Casino. I got my delightful travelling companion/lifesaver/translator, Ana Laura, to use my cell phone to call Monica to arrange a meeting and it looked like it was going to all go ahead. But, the times had only been approximate and then the tour guide told us that we could go shopping in Iguacu first. Aarrrgh!!! I established a new e.t.a. for the Casino, and got Ana Laura to ring Monica for me – she said she was already at the Casino waiting and it was at this point that we realised there were two casinos and Monica was at the other one. She would head off and try to get to the one we were going to be at… except the group was going to stay a bit longer shopping. Aaaarh! We couldn’t contact Monica so Ana Laura, (Bless her) said, "Let’s walk to the Casino and get there before the bus group…. " We let people know what we were doing and headed off in the general direction, along mostly well-lit and well-peopled streets. Ana Laura asked directions a few times and eventually, after me stumbling over (it had to happen at least once in the story) on very uneven paving, and grazing my knee but, gotta love Caroline Eve trousers… no rips or tears to the clothing!

We ended up at the beautiful Sheraton hotel whereupon I bought us each a large and soooo refreshing Caipirinia while we waited… and waited… and waited. We couldn’t get hold of Monica by phone, the bus tour arrived and went into the Casino. I gave my $10 peso voucher to Ana Laura to use as I’m just hopeless in casinos and I was still keeping an eye out for Monica.

Just like a movie, when you think things aren’t going to happen before the time runs out…. and just as everyone was getting back on the bus, Monica roared up in a little red car and we just knew who each other was. So there we were, in the front of the very grand Sheraton Hotel, with the car parked in front and the door left open, hugging and crying and me talking in English, Monica in Spanish and Ana-Laura taking photos and translating, in the semi dark, while the bus is revving and getting ready to go. It was truly a very strange moment where two people who have never met before are in tears on the other side of the world because we both know Vivienne back in NZ. Gifts were exchanged - Viv had given me a US$5 note to spend on something special while I was here, and I had intended to buy Monica a drink but there was absolutely no time. Try to imagine the culturally sensitive tight-rope I had to walk to try and explain in gestures and a few words, in a few seconds, to someone who would not let Viv pay for anything during her entire month, that if Viv or I couldn´t be there to have a coffee or drink with her, then would she please take her friends out and have a drink on our behalf and tell the story about this evening... I think she understood in the end but it was definitely a moment of cultural negotiation over who would be offended the most if the $US5 was accepted or not. More hugs and then we had to get back on the bus. The whole episode was less than five minutes… but at least it happened and it was madcap crazy and ultimately successful and will remain a very special memory. ¡¡

¡Hóla, Viv!

Highway Robbery:
I have told several people in Argentina about the following incident and some who knew I was writing a blog said, “Don’t write about that because it makes us look bad.” Which in itself seems to me to be the essence of the Argentine people (that I have met so far). They love their country and are very proud of its culture, its natural features and their own personal stories of their families´ origins. But there is (trying to think of the right words here) a dissatisfaction, sadness, possibly an embarrassment and a resignation that this is just the way things have been, are now and probably will be and that change will happen slowly.

Anyway, we stopped at the Argentine border, returning on Sunday, and Claudio-the-tour-guide sorts out all the passports, visa etc at the border office. We had had no problems crossing the border two previous times for excursions. This time, someone in control at the border said to our guide that if each of us paid $4.00 (pesos) we could go through with out having our bus checked. Otherwise, we would all have to get out and every bag would be checked- taking Lord knows how much time. I could not believe this!

A fellow passenger collected all the money and everyone kind of shrugged their shoulders and said, “This is Argentina.” I was naively and thoroughly astounded and asked dumb questions like, “But won’t someone tell the police?” and “What if everyone called their bluff and every bus said, Go ahead, check us! There’d be buses backed up for miles….” and generally being gob-smacked and uncomprehending of what had just happened. The money was collected (I paid up, of course…. I don’t do political martyrdom and I had to remember that I’m just an extraterrestre) and we went merrily on our way.

After it was all over, I thought it was quite funny and tried to explain in broken Castellano that I have spent a lot more money in the past on legitimate transactions and had a lot less entertainment. So, as a cultural and learning experience, it was probably the best value for money I have had here.

Photos of San Ignacio, Misiones. I tried to find a Wikipedia link but the page is in Spanish only. See what you can find youself because I missed the really good touristy photo shots. This is a fabulous place and I would have loved to stay here longer. The story behind it is fascinating and I need to read a bit more about it as I couldn´t understand too much of what the tour guide said. There is a brilliant display museum and I find my ability to read and understand Spanish, at my own speed, is far greater than my ability to listen to it.

This is the lovely Ana Laura who helped me in so many ways. If it wasn´t for her, I would never have been able to catch up with Monica for Viv. On the other side of the world from NZ, someone I have only met two days before, goes out of their way to help me meet someone else I have never met before. Now THAT´S international relations!

Another .......Waterfall

2009-04-09T11:01:00.000-07:00

I have done two posts as a bit of an Easter bonus. This one is a special Easter treat for Viv-who-lived-here-for-a-month-and-knows-what-it´s-like and because I know that in a few hours her family and mine will be gathered together at her home for home-made Hot Cross Buns ... without me (and because they will get the in-joke) Hope you are all able to read this together and that someone will have a really buttery hot cross bun for me. Make sure you check out the blog following this.

It´s impossible to describe The Cataratas and, although it is nigh on impossible to take a bad photo - photographs cannot convery the enormity of this phenomenon.

A waterfall ...

Another waterfall...

and the same waterfall ...

But wait, there´s more waterfalls ...

and more....

and with lovely young travel companions.

Another day, another waterfall.

The hat is a souvenir. This waterfall is THE biggie:

This is the guy who offered to take most of my photos of me.
Spot the waterfall...

And here, we have another ...waterfall...

and another view of the waterfalls...

A few things I discovered during my visits to The Cataratas:

Brazilian side on Friday and Argentine side on Saturday.

- All that pre-departure work in Jo and Brett´s Fitness studio paid off [A plug here for ¨You and Improved Fitness Studio in Waiuku.] I have been able to go up and down steps, (plenty of those if you observe the height of the falls) lug heavy bags and walk for miles.

-It was not a busy day for mosquitoes but it is easy to become paranoid every time you feel something touch your skin.

-It is always wise to make sure the bottle top of your malaria medication is screwed on tightly lest they spill all over the bottom of your bag.

- A wrist watch that boasts ¨Bath waterproof¨does not mean it can go under a waterfall.

- Sometimes you wonder what you are doing on a speed boat going sideways over rapids heading towards an almighty steep cliff ... in Brazil, and if your travel insurance covers death-by-waterfall.

- A $5 packet raincoat is not waterfall proof - and yet they still sell them at the point-of-departure. Neither do the raincoats hold great puddles of water in your lap while you are seated on a boat under a waterfall.

- You will eventually dry out.

- Some people pay a small fortune to have their photo officially taken, looking like a drowned rat, in front of a waterfall.

-It is difficult to see anything at all near a waterfall when you wear glasses. It´s like driving a car without windscreen wipers.

- It is very difficult to get a photo, up close, of a large spider or a small iguana.

- Most of the plants in my garden and house, including the weeds, have their origins in South America.

- It´s a good idea to familiarise yourself with the phrase, ¨I´ll take yours if you take mine.¨ People seem very happy to take photos for each other. And, it is easier to say, ¨Yes please¨ than try to explain that you have a photo of yourself in front of every possible view of a waterfall. The lovely guy in the photo kindly offered to take my photo at every new waterfall so I said it was about time I took a photo of him.

- The Argentine people are very proud of their waterfalls and those who haven´t been there have it on their ¨Öne day when I can afford it¨dream list. Everyone I have met is pleased and pleasantly envious that I got to go there. It´s like a pilgrimage and people on the tour were visibly and emotionally moved to be there. It´s almost as if it reinforces the good things about Argentina to make up for all the things they are unhappy with or are unable to change.

Animal Crackers

2009-04-07T19:33:00.000-07:00

Happy Easter!

I have included a few random photos of animals for your viewing pleasure. Not an Easter bunny in sight.

This is an ant hill at Misiones San Ignacio. I looked for evidence of ants and mercifully found none. However, it did put my ant-problem-at-home into perspective and I will now not be so upset at the small piles of sand shifted from between the cobble stones when I compare them to these. Now THIS is a serious pile! (approx 80cm- 1m high)

This is a particularly inquisitive, and long, anaconda. There is glass between him and me, obviously.

Check out this guy! This is a coati ... I think. A bit like a possum but cuter with Yogi Bear characteristics. A group of them are on tourist duty at one of the refreshment stops on the Argentine side of the Cataratas. As soon as I stopped filming one of the shop keepers chased him away with an umbrella. I have a feeling he would return. I believe they have a similar shredding effect on your skin to a possum if you should be so inclined to have one crawl up your arm.

Having recently learned that the small flower on one of my camera buttons did indeed have a purpose.... I have discovered the joys of ´macro´ and, of course, need to share that with you, dear reader. So, here are a few close-ups of butterflies- because I can! There was an abundance of butterflies around, most of them smaller than our monarch butterflies but all beautiful and so delicate. From now on, I will not take monarch butterflies for granted.

There is an abundance of dogs wandering around the parts of Argentina and Brazil that I have been to. They do not appear agressive and all seem to have a confident sense of purpose. They don´t seem to take any notice of people-their attitude appears to be one of indifference. I have felt more unsafe walking past a few of the loose dogs in Otaua than I do sharing the same footpath as these dogs. Maybe there are cultural differences in animals in different countries as well. I remain , however, wary of all dogs in Argentina.

The sleeping dog photo was taken at about midnight in some goodness-knows-where truck and bus comfort stop. He just appealed to me as I shared his territory to have a photo taken with my travel-buddy-saviour, Ana-Laura, shortly before we went our separate ways. The dog raised an eyebrow, decided it wasn´t worth the effort to move, and went back to sleep. It never seems clear if these dogs are just plain feral or have homes to go to at the end of their outings.

And, my personal favourite dog story so far.... this was taken on Tuesday, in Parana. I saw this large ute/small truck go past full of all sorts of dogs, sitting upright and composed and all very well behaved. It stopped outside a house, the driver got out, took a dog from the back, knocked on the door of a house, handed the dog over, got back into the truck and drove off. It looked so funny - like a school bus full of oh-so-disciplined children. On further research, I discovered that the man was a ¨dog-walker¨who exercises dogs for people who are at work all day. It costs $100 (pesos - currently about $NZ50) a month and for that, you get your dog picked up and delivered and exercised in the park for four hours, three times a week. The man takes 20 dogs at a time and has two separate groups. Do the maths! All the dogs get on very well together and there is no fighting or jockeying for position on the back of the truck. They do not appear to be tethered either as they are just all in together, like a truck full of sheep. But they all sit upright and dignified. No leaning into the wind with the tongue hanging out or barking in anticipation. These are classy dogs!

And this one..... I was very much reminded of the snake in the zoo in the Harry Potter movie. This snake was a bit of a performer and it seemed it was his/her shift as it came up through the water and along the glass to give a good view to all those gathered around. Meanwhile, another anaconda was off duty curled up asleep at tha rear of the enclosure.

Lost in Translation

2009-04-06T19:38:00.001-07:00

I have posted a few blogs within the past 24 hours as I get chances to get the internet. So, if you are interested, go back and start from where you left off.

And, I will get to the actual Falls part of the story - but take it from me, they were spectacular and truly beyond description.
Had really cute film clip here... but lost it. Watch this space as I will have to totally reload it. Grrrrrr *Shakes fist at Blog set up*

Well, there I was in Brazil (Brasil) quite unexpectedly as I thought we would be staying on the Argentina side of Iguazu Falls, but, it appeared not. So I have another few stamps in my passport and can say that I have been to Argentina four times. (Crossing to and fro for touristy things).

How do you know when you are truly having an intercultural experience? When you are a New Zealander speaking French with a tango singer from Paris on an Argentinian bus tour at a bird park in Portuguese-languaged Brasil.

Some observations on and from a hotel room in Brasil:
- I was not staying in a 3 or above star hotel

- I stretched out in bed and put my recently pedicured toenail through the bottom of the sheet.... I think this was a bit of an indicator that the hotel was ready for a bit of refurbishing.

- I turned on the hot tap over the basin...and cold water dribbled out from under the base of the cold tap. Tested this phenomenon twice.

- The corridor lights worked by motion-sensor (which required leaping or arm-flapping to set them off) and the rooms had energy saving cards that needed to go in a slot to activate the power, in the interests of conservation - but all the taps leaked.

- There was no information booklet or any usual hotel paraphernalia, but at least there was a Gideon´s Bible (Cue Beatles song from White Album .... ¨Rocky Raccoon, checked into his room, only to find Gideon´s Bible ¨ family in-joke, apologies to all others who find that incomprehensible.)

- I looked out the window at 6am Sunday morning, heard glass or a bottle smash, and saw a man attack and chase another one - apparently quite randomly up the street. There were a few other people around, they just carried on about their business.

- I saw, on the main street outside the hotel, a horse-drawn cart stacked unbelievably and incredibly high with.... I´m not sure what -scrap/junk/recycling, but it looked very much like one of those email jokes of unusual transport and vehicles from third-world countries. It was definitely a case of an overloaded vehicle and yet it was certainly a masterpiece of skilful stacking and packing! You had to respect the craftsmanship that went into getting it all on the cart and keeping it there.

- Every single drop of drinking water in the hotel had to be paid for. Not a complementary jug of water at any place or time to be seen. However, there was a piping hot pump thermos of complimentary sweeeeet black coffee and disposable cups outside the lift.

- I had a few interesting conversations with staff there. (Viv, think back to a taxi driver in Adelaide in 2001.) I brought a young male staff member up to my door, saying, “ My door won’t open!” in my best Spanish which consisted of three words relevant to the situation… which was reasonably ineffective as the man spoke Portuguese. He, of course, opened the door right away, by turning the key four times round in the lock… I’d given up after three. The door handle itself spun round with little participation in the whole door opening process. “Well, while you’re here then,” I added pleasantly with gestures, “Can you fix the tv, please, and….where are the emergency exits, or signs?” (Nothing had happened when I turned the tv on and then about five minutes later it burst into white and black dots then up came a sign and said it would shut down in 48 seconds. I was hoping that the word still meant ‘shut’ in Portuguese and not ‘self destruct’). The bloke found a ripped out channel cable, shoved it somewhere relevant and Brazilian tv burst forth. The emergency exit steps were reasonably close but unmarked.

- I had a very interesting conversation (with many gestures and much intonation) with the most terse of receptionists…and I think it went beyond language difficulties, although I became a little terse myself by the end of interaction. By the end of my stay I felt quite sorry for her as I think many of the issues she had to deal with were outside her control…

Me: “Computadora?,” and pointed in the area of the computers. (Hotel boasted conference and computer facilities so I felt it was not an unreasonable request.)
Her: “No.”
After a few repeats and requests for clarification:
Me: Is that internet? (pointing gesture, one hand at computer the other circling and then heavenwards, "internet¨ said in an accent of unknown nationality )
Her: Yes
Me: Can I use it? (further gestures which, from a distance, could have looked as if I was giving a disco dance demonstration)
Her: No;
Me: Why? (you can make up your own mental pictures from this point onwards)
Her: No computer
Me: But there is a computer there
Her: No computer.
Me: (In a very Fawlty Towers moment) I can see that it is working so it is clearly not out of order…. Aaaah, I see… it is booked?…. Can I use it until someone comes? It has been available for some time.
Her: No;
Me: Is there anyone here who speaks English?
Her: No
Me: So, what you are saying is, I cannot, under any circumstances use the computer,
Her: No
Me: (Somewhat pathetically) Well, my tv doesn’t work. Television? Doesn’t work? No go. No functione. Television? Room cuartro cero seis… no television. (Try miming that, those of you playing at home)
Her: OK

Next conversation :
Me:(with gestures and relevant props) Can you please change this 100 peso note (worth about $60 NZ ish)
Her: No

Next conversation to see if computer was available YET?
Receptionist sees me coming and points to another man behind the counter.
So, repeat the above conversation except there is a man answering in the negative
He adds the word “card” . I say , “Oh, I understand, I need a code. OK can I pay for a code?”
(No bonus points for guessing the answer) “No”.
Me: Wireless? (On the off-chance …. and pronounced wee- eer lease?)
Him: Si wee-eer lease …. tres y cuartro pisos ornly tree in for ummm flor
Me: Brilliant, Fantastico! Bueno!I am on the fourth floor, cuatro piso! Yo estoy en el cuatro piso.
Can I buy code/ card. I have my own computadora (cue more gestures)
Him: No, No card.
Me: (Make up your own ending here).

Power to the People:
- I have necessarily learned the word for electrical plug (enchufre). There is a Brazilian shop-owner in the hotel who will dine out on the story of a crazy foreigner (not sure if I revealed my origin) for a while. In short… I realised the phone charger and my computer plugs were incompatible with Brazilian power points; I asked at reception if they had adapters (no points for guessing the answer). So, I went to the hotel shop and was sold one for 7 pesos. Fine! Took it to my room, tried it in every power point * (more to come on this) – didn’t work. Took it to reception and asked if they would try it in their power points – didn’t work. Took it back to the shop (thinking of the Fawlty Towers episode with Mr Orilly and the dwarf with the pointy hat). Gave it to the shop keeper to try – didn’t work. Gestured replacement (more disco-dancing gestures), got replacement and was just about to go when 2 girls from our tour, in a mixture of broken English and Spanish, told me that the voltage is different here and there is a 3 pin power point in each room for the air conditioner. Brilliant! You have a choice of air conditioning or charging appliances. But why is it that a fellow tourist needs to tell me this when no one at reception or the shop owner could tell me – in gestures or a few simple words? So, I gesture exchanging the second power adapter for souvenirs from his shop. Mission accomplished. End note: the shop keeper waved happily to me as I got on the bus to leave Brazil…

- *Power points….. So far, the greatest risk to my life here was from using the power points in my hotel room. There were about 6 altogether, Lord knows why. Most of them were cracked, some of them had holes around them, and the air conditioner one was decidedly “spongy” and the two screws that held it to the wall… came away when I tried to remove the air con plug. Visions of irony as Mark, (husband/electrician and qualified electrical inspector) has to make trip to Brazil to pick up remains of electrocuted wife. And the thing is - I should have known better but decided that if I held the plate firmly against the wall with one hand and pushed/pulled plug in and out , then I should be fine. So, the room lights surged and dimmed (not sure if it was related) and the battery/charging indicator flickered between the two… but, my photos were transferred, a blog entry was written and the phone was charged. Holding a snake and a speed boat trip over rapids and under a waterfall would be a comparative piece of cake! And, I lived to tell the tale.

Flushed and Flustered:

Rule number 1 for travellers: Never miss an opportunity to use ¨Los Baños¨, and, always make sure you know the local words for said facilities. There was a moment of bewilderment on my first stop into Brazil when I was faced with making a choice of Ele and Elf, and correctly headed in the direction of Ele. As in some places in Europe, some toilet stops have people (all women so far) who provide a measured amount of paper for a donation. Unprepared for this, at the first stop I had no coins with me however I was kindly let through with a ¨donation¨ of paper from the attendant.

Rule number 2: Always carry a small packet of tissues . It took me by surprise that just about every toilet had a small bucket or plastic-lined container in each cubicle, with a varying amount of rumpled tissue paper in it. Not thinking too much about this, it wasn´t until I actually found a notice requesting all used paper go in the bucket that I realised.... oh my goodness.... they don´t seem to flush paper here.... gulp! Always taking my own tissues, I completely got it wrong at one place and used one of the measured lengths of paper outside the loo as a most inefficient paper towel. The attendant looked pityingly at me and pointed to a once-was-towel hand towel. I felt very stupid and realised that being prepared for, let-alone understanding the culture of a country can start from the ¨bottom¨upwards. My personal favourite was one set of toilets at Misiones which I paid for with all my left over Brazilian coins. For a small donation, not only did you get a reasonable ration of paper, but, because the cisterns weren´t working, the attendant also bucketed water in the bowl after you to flush it for you. Now, that´s service. Such an interesting juxtaposition alongside a very classy tourist presentation at San Ignatio.

Rule number 3: Always take a small botttle of that alcohol handwash that dries as soon as you rub it in. I have used my bottle many times.

A Picture Says a Thousand Words

2009-04-06T08:27:00.000-07:00

While I am working on completing the abridged version of my epic adventure, I will upload a few photos. It seems reasonably logical that, if I couldn´t understand much of what was being said by tour guides from the time I left Parana to the time I arrived back, but could still be absolutely awestruck by what I saw... then my photos need little further explanation.

I saw this assemblage of amethysts from a distance and thought, ¨That´s a kiwi!¨

Large ants after the same syrup as the humming birds.

Can you find the humming bird?

If I could talk to the animals....I think this one understood English.

I was going to have a go at having my photo taken with the snake...truly (See two blogs back) but I just didn´t have time to get to know her. (I like to think of it as a her.)

Researching Brazilian culture. I think, (should I have been so adventurous to attempt it), that after two of these I would have been able to speak Spanish/Castellano and quite possibly Portuguese quite fluently. Undoubtedly my favourite taste experience in Brazil. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caipirinha

Observations:
- I think Dr Seuss must have been inspired to create some of the characters in his books from birds in South America.

- Some South American birds also seem to have been the inspiration for some creative hair styles in magazines and posters in hair salons.

- Some of the birds´physical and behavioural characteristics remind me of some people I know.

- With a tour group of complete-strangers-whose-first-language-is-not-English, you forget after a while that you don´t understand much of what is being said, but you realise that you understand some pretty basic universal truths about people travelling together i.e.
......there are the inclusive extroverts who set the tone of the excursion and who understand that they will have an even better time if they ensure that everyone feels part of the group, and do everything possible to carry that out;
......there are the quiet, low-key ones who are travelling with a group because it´s the only way to get to where they want to go and they are quite happy remaining slightly apart from the group;
......there are small groups or pairs of friends who intend to have a great time and hope that there are others similar that they can join up with;
......there are mixed-generational family groups who use the trip as a way of being together;
......there is always at least one person who: sleeps in/ gets lost/ loses their visa...(no names mentioned but it wasn´t me)/wants to visit a friend of a friend who just happens to live near one of the excursion destinations... (ahem, yours truly *waves to Viv in NZ and Monica in Puerto Iguaçu*)/gets left behind for an optional excursion/is a tango singer from Paris/disagrees with the hotel´s version of their bill/ is a high needs, non-first-language speaker of Castellano who tries to ration the number of times she asks English-capable members of the tour, in fluent Spanglish: ¨¿Qué pasa? What were the important parts of that information?¨

and... while I am waiting for another film clip to upload... Have you ever been watching the Academy Awards on tv and not been able to stop yourself from composing your own gracious acceptance and thanks speech.... ?Well, if I could remember all the names of people who helped me out, one way or another, I would be pretty much writing down the entire bus load of Argentinians, plus one Venezuelan and a young boy from Paris, and the German resident of Foz Iguaçu,who told me in broken English, outside the internet cafe, to be careful because he once had a gun held to his head in the very spot where we were standing.

However, if it weren't for a few special people, I think I would still at the first breakfast stop wondering what the procedure was for ordering a meal: The absolutely wonderful Susana from Parana (who just happens to be an English teacher at high school and university and was one of Mélisa´s English teachers - what a coincidence and a God-send) and her gorgeous family, especially the boys who helped me out numerous times and made me feel so welcome when I often joined them at meal times; Ana, from Venezuela, the other passenger travelling ´sola´ who also helped translate for me and who was one of the extroverts; several of the younger girls who have beautiful names which I can´t remember and are all gorgeous-looking (What is it about Argentinian women? They are all beautiful and naturally elegant) and who looked after me at the Brazilian concert night and are responsible for me joining them in a real conga with my own special interpretation of Brazilian dance - the photographic evidence of which has been ...destroyed; the English/Spanish translator who sat across the aisle from me whose name I can´t remember; and the lovely young Ana-Laura who sat by me in the bus for most of the trip and who also helped me on so many occasions - at least one of which deserves its own special entry later on. I cannot begin to express my appreciation. The end-of-speech-get-her-off-the-stage-music has started to play. I have to go to another class in a few minutes.

Here´s a few film clips which need no introduction.

There will be more to come... but it takes ages to upload film clips.

Back from the Frontier

2009-04-05T23:04:00.000-07:00

Hi,

This is a quick note to let everyone know I am safely back from Brazil. It is 3am. We left Foz Iguazu (The Brazilian side of the falls) at 7.30ish this morning and and had a reasonably lengthy stop at both the Brazil and Argentina borders (watch this space, there´s an interesting story due
...but fortunately not about me, just observations). We stopped at Misiones Saint Ignatio (I will correct the spelling mistakes in the place names later, remember it is 3am...) for lunch and a tourist visit and then a stop at a generic truck stop somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Apart from that, I feel as if I´ve been on a very long flight in a comfortable seat. All up, it was a fantastic experience and am coming to the conclusion that if you gather any random bunch of people together from Argentina (excluding those who want to rob you) they will all be lovely, helpful, vivacious and generous, and at least a few will want to practise their English and at least two will be English translators or teachers... or am I just lucky? [Note to Mark: I have also invited a few more Argentinos to stay at our house during the rugby world cup and am pleased that I learned the Spanish word for ´floor´from our Spanish Christmas carol, Viv]

I have said that, yes, I will be at STEP at 7.30 in the morning to take the computer soft ware engineers for an English class. But this time, I think I will get them to do the talking; topic? Where should I go in Argentina for Easter?

Kay In Brazil

2009-04-03T06:24:00.000-07:00

I have just written a post and lost it..... Oh no.... for the second time. (Stamps foot, makes unfair statements about Brazilian technology with many examples of evidence, suddenly prefers to have an impossible deadline of running records and Gloss tests ...[individual reading and maths tests] than be here, wants to cry and say, ´Don't want to play anymore!` , makes a few improper comments to the Brazilian keyboard and computer suggesting it could at least be more similar to the Argentino one I have just got used to.... ) Gotta love culture shock. I have composed myself again and am now behaving appropriately. But, I swear, if I lose this post ...

So, (takes deep breath and starts all over again) I am in a Portuguese-speaking country on an Argentine bus-trip. It makes for some interesting conversations. My Argentine phone does not work here, the batteries have flattened quickly and the power adapter I bought to fit Brazilian power points - doesn´t work. The hotel shop owner will find himself at the sharp end of the two prongs if I don't get my money back (Channelling Fawlty Towers)

While I am way outside my comfort zone, I have decided to do the UNDER the Iguacu Falls boat trip this afternoon. (Mark, please check the Visa account...) I would have had my photo taken with a snake (truly) at the bird park yesterday , but I needed time to have a wee chat with him first, get to know him and vice versa ... I don't know what kind of snake it was but the word boa will come to mind when I get to post the photo of the snake-keeper draping it around her neck. I DID see a very large and inquisitive anaconda, through a thick glass pane, and, as it came closer to the window,...... I was very much reminded of the Harry Potter movie.

Anyway, had better go in case I lose this too.

¡ I Swear it´s True!

2009-04-01T13:25:00.000-07:00

Week 2 seems to be settling into a bit of a routine and I am now meeting the same classes again that I did last week. This Thursday is the day of Remembrance for Las Malvinas (Falkland Islands for those playing at home). As often happens, when I start asking questions about Argentina, I end up discovering more about New Zealand so I decided to show some photos of previous ANZAC Days at Waiuku and explain the ways we remember those who went to war. It seemed strange to explain the significance of the poppy – one person said they had always wondered about the flower that people wore. I don’t know why I thought that everyone would have known that. Spot the Euro-centric. I was describing that no matter how small a community was, after World Wars 1 and 2, people built or created memorials to acknowledge and remember those who served. I gave examples of how many ways World Wars 1 and 2 were remembered in Waiuku and districts and it was quite a surprise to realise there were so many.

My next class was an adult beginners and usually revolves around the personal information stage of vocabulary. I have now introduced the words “moggy’ and “chick flick¨ to them. There was a bit of an embarrassing moment for me when I boldly used an (unknown to me) inappropriate word in Castellano (think donkey in English) when talking about new vocabulary for body parts. It was I word I had picked up in a saying I had heard and thought I had a grasp of its meaning. I now have a much more...appropriate word for that which is sat upon.

Conclusions and Observations:
- Inappropriate words in another language tend to not have the same frisson of risk-taking or boldness when spoken by a learner of that language. No alarm bells ring in your head and there is no indication in its sound or appearance that this word is a no-no.

- No word leaps out and grabs your ears in the context of another language as much as one of your own language’s swear-words used in passing by a non-English-as-a-first-language-speaker and probably without a real understanding of its gravity.

I received a message that Migael de Cervantes Saavedra (see previous post) was closed for the day because there was no water due to public works maintenance, so I stayed on at STEP and caught up with correspondence. Then home for a two hour siesta (I know, feel sorry for me) and eventually back at night for the adult conversation class. We discussed problems which had arisen we we thought we knew enough of the language to get by, but once you find yourself in the ¨real thing¨you discover that native speakers do it differently, faster and with an unintelligible accent...and it´s even worse when you are on the phone. I recounted my bus-from-Buenos-Aires story as my evidence of language-shock.

I have taken several English classes by myself and it´s quite fun... it´s not too hard when there´s only been a maximum of 11 in any one class... remember it is a private language school. I have learned just as much about the language-learning process by helping people here learn English, as I have from my own trials and tribulations with Castellano. (Note... I spelled it incorrectly a few posts back ).

It continues to be hit-and-miss connecting on Skype with friends and family - and my lovely students of Huia 1 who seem more excited to see me and talk with me when I am pretty much as far away as I can possibly be before I start coming back again, than when I am standing in front of them. (Not to self,... cherish these moments and remember them on those interminably long wet lunchtimes in the middle of winter when we have all had enough of each other.) I very much appreciate those of you (Lynn, Mum, Julian, Huia 1) who think you are about to have a conversation with me and then you discover you are the focus of an English language lesson. Students of English in Parana now know the temperature in Tardun, Western Australia and in Broken Hill, New South Wales, and the names and ages of my students; but more importantly, they know how to ask relevant questions in real time in a relevant and authentic context to real speakers of English... and how to answer those same questions themselves. And my NZ students rattle of a very limited repertoire of all they know... quite confidently. It´s great to hear my Parana students say, por ejemplo (for example), ¨Hola, ...tengo trece años,¨and hear my NZ kids all say, ¨He´s thirteen.¨

Breaking news: the former president of Argentina (Alfonsin) has died, not unexpectedly, but thousands of people are thronging the streets of Buenos Aires to pay their respects. You have probably seen this on the news in NZ. I am just watching the headlines on TV now, ¨La democracia esta de duelo... Miles de personas despiden a Alfonsin.¨

And, now I head off to Iguasú. I am armed with industrial strength insect repellent and malaria medication. Watch this space.

¡¿¿¡¡¿¿¡¡¿¿¡¡¿¿¡¡¿¿¡¡¿¿¡¡¿¿¡¡¿¿¡¡¿¿¡¡¿¿¡¡¿¿ññññññññññññ¿¡¿¡¿¡¿¡¿¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¿¿¿¿¿¡ (Because I can - on this computer - with one simple touch of one key!. I know, I am showing off but it´s so nice to be able to use all those keys without using about three other keys first. I guess this is an intercultural moment.

Spot the Differences... and the Similarities

2009-03-31T14:05:00.000-07:00

Student with mate (mar-tay) during ten minute break. They carry thermoses and top up their mate container with hot water.

This student could not believe that I wanted a photo of a water container so I took another photo with him beside the water container and that seemed to make more sense to him. I took the photo because there are taps for both hot and cold water. Why hot water? To fill up the thermoses for mate, of course.

The doors of both schools I go to are very narrow (angosto) although, this one can open up all three parts, of course. However, when I am wearing my back pack, I find that I am wider (ancho) than the doorway. It is an interesting manoeuvre to fit through the door without taking off my backpack. It is best approached sideways with a sucked in tummy.

Man on motorbike overtaking my taxi on my way home to lunch. I wish I had my camera ready when I saw, yesteray, a man steering a motorbike with his right hand, and with his left hand, he was holding a the handle bar of a riderless pushbike which was rolling along beside him, parallel to his bike.

A fairly ubiquitas sign... see if you can work out what it is saying.

This is, of course, yours truly in one of the main shopping streets of Parana. There's no sign of anyone because everything has closed for the siesta.

This is one of the 11 English language beginners I took in a class for two hours last night. They were talking in English and Spanish to my students in New Zealand. ¡The miracle of Skype!

Spot the graffiti. There does not appear to be ´tagging´ as such, but there are lots of slogans, most of which I do not understand.

I am possibly doing something wrong, but it is extremely difficult to line up photos and text on a blog. I will need to get help from my ICT experts in my class (*waves to Huia 1 - Great to see you on Skype*) who seem to know everything that I need to know but can´t do.

I have just unleashed upon my host family and one adult-learners class.... Vegemite (apologies to all those Marmite afficionados- it was as case of what was available at the time). In limited Spanish, I explained that the sensation/impact they were having was as near an equivalent to most NZers´reaction to their first try of mate. Gotta love the truly intercultural experience... ¨I´ll show you mine if you show me yours.... ¨

Tomorrow night (Wednesday time here) I am going to Iguazu Falls.... near the former-home-for-a-month-in-2007 of Viv, my trail-blazing amiga who has been here and done that. I am hoping to meet up with her AFS host, Monica, but access to internet and communication could be random. It may be a case of ¨so near yet so far¨ if we don´t manage a rendezvous. I am waiting to hear back from her before I go. Similarly, I may not be able to get near a computer to report in with updates of my exploits.

´Allo,´Allo ....or Mangling the Language

2009-03-29T14:52:00.000-07:00

Photos of the Rio Parana at sunset.

There are times when I feel a real affinity with the policeman from ‘Allo, ‘Allo who mangled the French language (translated into mangled English) to the point where comprehension was only marginally possible, but provided entertainment because the audience understood the words when used both in and out of context. Everyone is most polite and helpful when I make a mistake although I could cope with people falling about laughing – as long as I understood what I had done wrong. * Be careful what you ask for…I was trying to explain “Chick Flicks” to Mirta and she thought I was talking about pornography. Clarification was muy rapido!

Similarly, there are times when I feel so much like Manuel from Fawlty Towers: “Hello, My name is Kay.” “I am from New Zealand.” “I am learning Castellano.” “I am improving.” “I am learning a lot.”

I am using an English/South American phrase book and a dictionary for frequent reference. I also keep a note book for spontaneous notes and another book in a more orderly fashion for new words and phrases. However, there is no way I can work out how to say clearly and unambiguously, in Castellano, “Today, my mother’s husband, who is not my father, is having his second leg amputated for a second time.” I have edited it to: “A family member is very ill in hospital.” So, hopefully Mum can print off my blog to take to Clive to read in hospital. (All the best for a quick recovery, Clive.)

On Friday night I went out to dinner with Melisa – (my 24 year old ‘mother’). We didn’t leave to go out until about 10.45pm but that is starting to feel less unusual. We went to a new restaurant which was opening that night, the chef of which was the Chiefs rugby supporter I had spoken to at 2 separate family parties during the previous week. Exceso is on one corner of a busy intersection on a tree-lined road with tables inside and out and is wonderfully clean and fresh and new. It was great to be able to follow most of the menu (all that insistence on asking for food on the WPS Kawau camps, plus the Spanish cafes we did has paid off, Viv). I am wondering if the black napkins in the bread basket were a salute to the All Blacks? The colours of the furniture, fittings and accessories were black and red so it could be a bit of a Counties (or Canterbury) tribute too. The place was very busy and we started off with a wooden platter of nibbly bits and peanuts. My meal was superb. I had “lomo” done in strips with a light mustard and cream coating. Lomo is beef – although I don’t know if it has any other particular features. It came with the most divine papas fritas (fries) which were mustard-kissed and you could just tell they were cooked in a new clean kitchen. Melisa had a Caesar salad which she said was great also. There was a basket of sliced fresh bread too. I have not seen or used butter (or margarine) since I have been in Argentina, although it does exist. I would have loved a glass of wine but, apparently, it doesn’t usually get sold by the glass so I went without and chose a lemon and lime soda water. We didn’t order dessert but got given a little gift of wrapped cake and a fridge magnet when we paid the bill. (On my reckoning about $25 NZ, which is great value.) The cake is best described as a something similar to a small hot cross bun with less cinnamon and more fruit, a bit like putting Christmas cake fruit mix in a bread dough. I was told that it is called pan dulce (sweet bread) which is a special Christmas food here.

So, if you are ever in Parana – check out Exceso Resto, almuezos y cenas (lunches and dinners plus they deliver) Ph 03434840904. Santa fe 607, Esquina Malvinas (That last lot is the address – there doesn’t seem to be the word Road, Avenue, Street etc used in addresses or road signs. It is on the corner of Malvinas and Santa Fe) I’m sure we will end up going there again so I will take my camera next time.

Last night Mirta (Melisa’s mother) Blanca (Mirta’s mother and the bis-abuela or great grandmother of the family) two of the great grandchildren (aged 2 and 4) and I went for a drive around the waterfront (river) of Parana just on sunset. We passed through a range of suburbs from those with pretty house-fronts to ‘schmutz’ a word from my host family which is not Castellano language but perfectly described the paces where you would not want to stop. Not all culture in Argentina is Argentinian. The Rio Parana is wide (ancho) and long (largo). In the distance is the skyline of Parana or Santa Fe – to be confirmed. Fresh fish are caught in the river and sold in pescaderias a few metres from the river’s edge. There were people kayaking on the river and a few small launches pottering about. I do believe there are tourist trips you can take on launches.

After that we went to another game of basketball to watch host-family-member Martin play. He used to be a professional player in the A league a few years ago, but is now “retired” and plays at club level while working full time. His team were winning for most of the game, were then over taken, got up to neck and neck points for the final quarter and were then beaten in the final few 2 minutes, which (as no surprise to people who know basketball) took about 6 minutes. It was all very exciting and the fact that I had no idea of the rules was no hindrance apart from not understanding how come sometimes one goal was worth more than one point.

Observations:
- You are not allowed to smoke in restaurants in Argentina.

- Many (if not most) people do not wear safety belts or use child restraints in cars

- Sometimes it is impossible to find the safety belt in the back seat of a taxi

- Lots of people use motorbikes and I have seen a few (or one a few times) small 4 wheel farmbike-esque sort of motorbikes. No one seems to wear a helmet or protective clothing or protective footwear. I have seen a couple carry a dog on a motorbike and I wish I had had my camera then.

- People in Argentina, or Parana anyway, wear jandals

- Chocolate and a bottle of wine can be an international language amongst a group of women gathered around a table.

- When women are discussing a man with a cold there is an understanding that crosses all cultures and language barriers

- Hokey pokey (in chocolates bought from Waiuku New World on special) goes down very well in Argentina.

- There is obviously a generic format for the tv news world wide.

- Knowing the word for ‘toilet’ or ‘bathroom’ in a non-English speaking country is vital. Knowing the word for ‘toilet paper’ has a pretty high rating also.

-It’s amazing how much fingernails can harden when they are not in dishwater or involved in food preparation for a few weeks.

- After being immersed in another language for a while you can start to make errors in your first language and end up wondering just what is the correct word for a road where the cars travel in both directions.

- Sweet potato in Argentina is as close to kumara as you can get before it becomes kumara. Definitely recognisable.

- There is no word for golden syrup and glucose is the nearest that anyone can think of as a substitute….. I just don’t think it will make hokey pokey.

- http://geonet.org.nz/ is a great site to show people how many earthquakes there are in NZ. Go to ¨Earthquakes¨, “Quake Drums” then Latest Quake or Recent Quakes then click on the shaky map of NZ. Play around on the site. It’s great fun.

-Watching “The Changeling” with Angelina Joli in English with Spanish subtitles nicely fills in a Sunday afternoon and improves language acquisition.

This Wednesday night I am off to Iguazu on a four day bus trip. Melisa has booked it for me and I know very little about it at the moment but I am looking forward to being a tourist for a few days. If I am the only English speaker on the bus, or no one wants to practise their English on me – it will surely be evidence of my progress in Castellano since arriving.

I am surrounded, immersed and saturated in Spanish (Castellano) and have improved significantly in my ability to understand and speak the language at a basic level. I can also identify far more words and even if I can’t comprehend them at the speed they are being spoken, I can get my ear around them.

I have my first mosquito bite – on my thumb. Apparently, it is not a malaria mosquito and I will be fine. The mosquitoes of Parana are reasonably benign, however I have my heavy-duty malaria medication ready for Iguazu.

It is currently 7.20pm Sunday night in Argentina and 11.20 Monday morning in NZ. My class will be off to PE soon. [See, I do think about you all a lot..and I still have to prepare for classes for tomorrow.] I start with an advanced English group of computer software engineers at 7.30a.m. I think I´ll get them involved in an authentic English experience by asking them if they can make sure my computer is virus free in Argentina... then I plan to show them my photos of a collection of Anzac Day assemblies and parades because Thursday is the remembrance day for the Malvinas war.

And to finish with:

A language-learning experiencefrom Anne (exchange student to Waiuku College a few years ago)... who is following my blog from New York State . *Waves to Anne*

So many of your comments took me back to my semester in Mexico in 1976. I used to go home with headaches from trying so hard to get meaning from facial expressions/eyes/hand gestures when I couldn't understand the words. And then there's the Spanish-of-the-textbook vs the real words you need for life - I can remember coming off the subway (metro) in Mexico City with another American student who exclaimed, "Forget about ESPANOL A LO VIVO [the name of our Spanish textbook], how do you say 'Get your hand off my thigh' in Spanish??!!"

Almost Home Alone

2009-03-28T08:04:00.000-07:00

It is Saturday morning and I have had the most delicious sleep in. Everyone else has gone to work or other commitments and there is just Graciela (the house-keeper-with-not-a-word-of-English) and me. I got to bed at about 1.30 a.m.and slept ´til 10 a.m. What a joy it is not to have to get up to let scratching-at-the-door cats in or out. Few, if any people in Parana seem to have cats and I wonder if it could be related to the number of free-range dogs wandering about?

Note to Rupert-cat and Roger -cat ... you are not as cute and appealing as you think you are.

I have been able to use the internet to check out and research things that I had not quite ¨got my head around¨ previously. [For the English as a Second Language readers of my blog - that was a very long way of saying ¨understood¨.]

Here are some links to various internet sites you may like to check out to find out more about where I am, what I am doing and some of the things I mention.

http://www.lodgemotel.com.au/ The Lodge Outback Motel is in Broken Hill, NSW, Australia (the middle of nowhere but nothing like ¨Far Far Way¨in Shrek II. ) It is run by my dear friend Christine (also Julian´s godmother), her brother-in-Sydney, her daughter and son-in-law. It is to this out-post that we have just sent our 18 year old son Julian to help out and to have his small OE [overseas experience]. I am hoping that he has arrived there safely by now as it is his first solo venture. (Those of you who know Celia Lashlie´s book... I am off the bridge!) They are doing a wonderful job renovating the motel and have won several awards recently. If you are travelling through the middle of nowhere, call in and check out how they are going for me - and stay there for a while. Read their on-line guest book and those of you who know Christine will recognise that she is still the same!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mate_(beverage) This is the Wikipedia link to mate (mar-tay). Try checking out Google images for lots more images - but here´s my own contribution:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paran%C3%A1,_Entre_R%C3%ADos This is a link to Wikipedia to find out the area where I am living. For more pictures, check out Google images, Parana, Entre Rios as there is another Parana in Brazil. Parana at street level and close up looks a bit more tired and in need of maintenance but there are defintely signs of a former elegance and grandeur (like so many of us...).

http://www.stepelc.com.ar/english/contact.htm This is the site for the STEP English School where I work most mornings and evenings. It is full of dedicated and delightful teachers and all ages of students from children to adults, who are soooo keen to learn English. In fact, if you think you want to improve your own grasp of English-as-your-first-language grammar you should come here too. I am on my best grammatical behaviour when I am at STEP. The teachers are encouraging, supportive and always positive - and someone usually brings me a cup of coffee. How cool is that!

¿Where in the world is Otaua? and why is the map of NZ anatomically incorrect? A photo of one group of students at STEP.

http://www.cervantessaavedra.com.ar/index.htm Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra
This is the school that I have gone to from 10.30 - 1.00 pm every morning. It is about three blocks and around the corner from STEP but I (foolishly) feel like Christopher Columbus setting out into the unknown every time I negotiate this voyage by myself. The students are lively and confident and seem to enjoy the distraction of something different in the classroom (a Universal Truth).Many of the students speak English well and most of them speak English better than I speak Spanish. One group of girls took charge of me and I joined their group for a geography task one day and a technology task the next day. The lesson was about the speed of technological advancement over the past century. I was able to tell them that my grandmother, as child, could not believe her grandmother who told her that one day she would see a carriage move without a horse - and my grandmother lived to see, on television, man land on the moon. The teachers are hardworking and kind and generously allow me to sit in on their classes. They have far far fewer resources at hand than we have in New Zealand and yet the students learn, and if their ability to speak English is an indication of the standard of teaching, they are very well taught. (Note to Susannah... That doesn´t mean I don´t need that list of resources I asked for....)

I am also grateful to Melanie (family connection at the school) who was able to interpret for me and explain to the teachers why I was in their room. She also organised a taxi for me to return home and confirm with Melisa that I was on my way home. All these things I could have eventually done by myself with much effort and gesticulation ... but the show must go on and I tend to slow things down a bit.

I gave my camera to a group of students and said,¨Take photos of what is important to you in your school.¨ Here´s a sample of what they came up with...

One of the classrooms I was in . Much smaller than in NZ but lively and vibrant none-the-less.

Another classroom. The windows open up onto the footpath and the road. The school was once a large home and there is very little on the outside to indicate that a school is within. Notice the hot water thermos for mate. There is a water cooler for drinks but includes hot water for mate as well.

Some of the teacahers. Find the thermos, the mate cup (must find the right name for it) and the packe of yerba to make mate.

The school symbol.

Looking into the school classroom in the first photo above from the courtyard.

Check out the chalkboard to see what subject is being taught her. (Click on the photo and it should enlarge.)

The flag of Argentina. Light blue and white will forever remind me of Argentina.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TX9IY1ht92I ¨La Posta¨You tube link
(Led Zepplin alert) The first thing learners of English learn is personal information and how to ask questions about it. Consequently, most people at STEP know more about my family and me than people I know well in NZ. I was talking about son Julian, and describing how his reason-for-living was to compose and play music all day and that he considered this to be his ¨work¨. The teacher afterwards told me that her son was similar so we did what mothers do in any language... compared notes and boasted about the wonderful qualities of our respective sons. I got to meet the Argentinian son ,Juan, and was immediately impressed because he was wearing a John Lennon t shirt. I showed him Mark and Julian´s Youtube video (see below) and he showed me his band performing live last year. Check it out and add a comment if you can. The band, La Posta, are just about to release a CD. I think I was able to impress Juan by saying that I had seen Led Zepplin perform live a long time ago. I have found that that piece of information frequently gets me more respect from a certain demographic than any of my teaching strategies.

http://www.latinbasket.com/team.asp?Cntry=ARG&Team=4805 Link to Sionista basketball team.

Last Sunday night we went to a basket ball game supporting the Sionista team. The host family´s son, Martin, used to play in this team and, in his absence, I have his room. I have learned much about basket from reading the posters and framed pages from newspapers with him in them. He still plays but not at the top level any more. I believe we are going to watch him play a game tonight but he may only be on for a short time as he is recovering from injury. It was the first game of basketball I had seen live, anywhere, and it was truly an amazing experience.

The noise from supporters was deafening and made rugby and cricket supporters seem positively restrained. I was concerned that various parts of the tiered seating or, indeed, the entire building, could stand the earthquake-like impact of the stamping and thumping that is required to either support your team or indicate to the referee that he has made a mistake. There was a sort of band comprised of drums and a horn section that played the team song at appropriate times. It was pretty much the stereotypical South American sporting event. I couldn´t believe it actually existed.

Lowlight of the evening, which momentarily stopped the game for a few minutes, was when we looked across the court to see a man´s legs and torso dangling and kicking from underneath the top tier of seating. People were rushing to support him from underneath and it was not clear for a while what was happening. It seems he had fallen through the floor boards somehow and was caught in a potentially very dangerous situation. As soon as he was rescued the game continued. I don´t think there is an OSH equivalent in Argentina... I watched where I stepped very carefully and took that as a salutary lesson.

Action shot. Plan B is to become a sports photographer. (Ha ha ... There is no ´I´ in sport)

My only previous encounter with basketball was a particularly brutal five minutes on the court with Susannah and Bobby against the WPS Year 8 students. Susannah won! And to think it was a fellow kinsman (on the Naysmith side of the family) who invented the game of basketball.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6D5fhUetf5s Otaua, world-famous in Parana. When people ask me about where I live and what we do, inevitably, I end up using this Youtube video as an explanation. It just happens to be by husband, Mark, and son Julian. So, for what it is worth, Otaua, you have the support of a small group of people from Parana. It´s a good way of me feeling as though I am still involved in our wee community´s big struggle which is now heading towards the Environment Court in NZ. Many people have told me there is a similar struggle to prevent pollution of the local river by Paraguay, except that is going to the International Court.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Purim and finally, on my first night here .... I went to the local Jewish community´s Purim commemoration. My family explained it to me and I hope I understood it correctly. It is the local Jewish communituy´s way of keeping the history and traditions alive and is very much child-oriented occasion commemorataing a significant event in the past. Children and adults wore fancy dress and there were activities, stories and a dance with karaoke at the end. There was a slide show of the children´s activities throughout the year and at the end, a Queen was selected from amongst the girls. Some of the people I met on my first night I have met many times since and am now starting to remember names and connections.

From the Beginning

2009-03-27T14:06:00.000-07:00

I feel as if I have been here for twice as long as I actually have because since I have arrived, (my first day was about 36 hours long for me) I have had a siesta every day which breaks the day into two very separate halves. Also, my room has shutters which I don’t open because of the heat – so, in the dark, it feels like morning after waking up from a siesta. I have a window in my room but it is alarmed at night or when there is no one at home. I don’t tend to use the window because I have (thank you, Lord) an option of a ceiling fan and a heat pump with a mega-cool option. I am indeed becoming acclimatised.

The fan, necessarily on warp 10, tends to have a hurricane-like impact on anything in the room unsecured, and a framed picture belonging to the original inhabitant has just fallen off the wall after I turned the fan on. Oops.

Going back and filling in the gaps briefly….Auckland on Friday, I met up with Paul-from-Hukanui and Veronica-from-Wellington and Olivia-the-exchange-student-from-Christchurch so we were a small party until we all went our separate South American ways by midnight Argentina time about 30 hours later.

The flight was long but not interminable – probably because it was an incredibly smooth trip – not an iota of turbulence – and I have a “Princess and the Pea” sensitivity to any aircraft in-flight twitches and wriggles. Veronica and I immediately found common ground and chatted together until the meal, then the long enforced sleep for which we had to have all the blinds drawn as it was daylight throughout. We would not have noticed this except that one of the blinds was broken and the sun shone brazenly through the magazine page taped over the window. The plane and all the services and accessories felt old and dodgy. The meal was bland and the coffee and tea indescribably bad, and at room temperature. One of the toilets was taped shut and one of the tvs (the drop down kind) flickered in its death throes for a while before stopping completely. I couldn’t find a tv channel in the in-flight entertainment section of the magazine, but then I couldn’t find a magazine either and used Veronica’s. In the end I dozed pretty much awake with my eyes closed, for most of the “night” part of the flight. The near-by toilet flush sounded like an explosive sneeze and was disturbingly audible, waking me with a start every time I dozed off. We landed in the afternoon after a breakfast meal, so from the start it was a pretty disorienting arrival.

We went straight through customs and were met by an AFS volunteer, a young man who organised two taxis for us, both of which gave a “Welcome-to-Argentina-get-used-to-the-traffic” demonstration between the airport and the AFS office. Olivia’s and my ride was gaspingly rapid with unpredictable ducks and dives around other drivers. We left first but somehow the second taxi beat us to the office – in spite of a near death experience with a truck along the way.

The AFS people were wonderfully friendly and helpful. We were able to have a drink, a snack and a shower which was glorious and so strong it just about pinned me to the floor. There were volunteers and paid helpers but all were generous and couldn’t do enough to ensure we had a good start to Argentina. Olivia went with an AFS person and the rest of us caught taxis to the bus stop. Paul was the first to go at 9pm. Veronica, Mariana (from Patagonia – how cool is that!) and I had a snack at a new part of the bus station. There is kind of a departure lounge like at the airport so that travellers can be safer before they catch their bus. (You would have certainly noticed the difference, Viv. I think this is all new since your experience. ) At about 10.45pm we went to the bus forecourt which went on forever. There were numbered bays for over 80 buses and there were people everywhere. Buses came and went and the smell of diesel fumes and cigarette smoke was overwhelming. It was hot and dirty and there were several dogs wandering with a purpose and barking as if they owned the place. They were not confrontational but just staunch and going about their business with confidence.

Such juxtaposition! The buses were something again. Huge new-looking double-decker buses, the kind that look as if they have short droopy antennae, all painted with their company names and in absolutely top condition. There is an absolute contrast between these and everything else in Argentina that I have seen so far. I am not sure why the bus companies are so modern and sleek when much else appears tired and under-maintained. Once on the bus at midnight, I was alone for the first time in Argentina. (Refer to earlier post for my ¨hungry and frozen*¨ experience on the bus. * Title of daughter Laura´s cooking blog for those who don´t get the in-joke. http://hungryandfrozen.blogspot.com/ )

As the bus started moving, an in-flight safety and services-available message came across the speakers – in Spanish only and I couldn’t understand a word. There was a ‘flight attendant” on board but she just wandered past making sure we were all in our seats and then rattled off a list of drinks available – the only one of which I understood was the first, “agua –water” so that’s what I had!.

Pronunciation lesson. In Argentina, agua – water, is pronounced as if you were going to say “arg” as in the beginning of ‘argument’ but just has you had started to form the letter ‘g’ you changed your mind and went to the ‘wuh’ part of the word, and the end of the word fades away as if you weren’t quite sure how to pronounce it.

The trip was, again, incredibly smooth and I was able to doze somewhat fitfully, mindful of the large sleeping mass in close proximity. The curtains were Velcro-closed and I did peep out occasionally but we seemed to be travelling for 6 ½ hours on pretty smart toll motorways. We came via Santa Fe and through the tunnel under the river to Paraná. It seems to be an amazingly well-designed and built structure, and another part of the juxtaposition of incredibly modern and tired and run down. (Today, some computer engineering students told me that its life expectancy was 30 years. “How old is it?” I asked…. “Thirty years,” the reply. )

I finally arrived at Paraná at 6.30 and was met by AFS volunteer Mariela and host family member Melisa who took me straight to Melisa’s home.

Language-learning Observations and Intercultural Discoveries:

- It is indeed true that speaking louder does not help comprehension.

- Being able to use a mixture of Spanish and English by all parties involved, increases the level of possible communication and leaves everybody feeling they have contributed to helping the other person’s understanding and language acquisition.

- Taking a risk to try and assemble a set of sounds to communicate a message to someone who fully understands that set of sounds… is like playing one of those fruit machines when you release the lever, hoping that all the sounds /fruit line up the way you wanted… and then hearing/seeing the “Ka-ching” when the message is understood.

- When you ask “What is this?” as you pick the morsel up and hold it closer to your mouth than you eye…. you KNOW it’s too late, and too rude to put it down when you find that it’s a thin slice of cow’s tongue on a toothpick. (In actual fact it wasn’t tooooo bad as I am used to the taste of ox tongue.) There was an also interesting texture to a piece of the asado which I later discovered was a gland… and did not pursue information on the original location of the gland. Again, it was OK , and very nice on the first taste… but pondering its origin does tend to slow down the chewing.

- Once you have invited one Argentinian All Black fan to sleep on your couch for the 2011 World Rugby Cup, you end up inviting them all.

- At a 2 year old´s birthday party you should not be surprised to find not only one person proudly wearing a Canterbury logo on a shirt but another person who can (unassisted) name at least 3 of the Counties rugby clubs and more Chiefs players than most NZers could, and another who has been to NZ for the first World Rugby Cup, and another person who has had dinner with Tane Randell when playing professional rugby in England. There is more chance of me running into such passionate Rugby enthusiasts in Paraná than Waiuku, it would seem.

- Just because I am in Argentina, it does not mean that all all cultural experiences are Argentinian culture.

- It is, in point of fact, Castillian (Carss -ti - zharn) rather than Spanish which is spoken here. The word ¨Spanish¨is acceptable but I understand that ¨Castillian¨ is more correct. (Later correction - this should read Castellano... pronounced car -st- jha no according to my hearing.)

-Goofy sounds the same in Spanish as he does in English

- It is possible to survive for a week without a cup of tea.

- While everyone from NZ to Paraná via Buenos Aires is telling me to be careful about personal safety, and security at home .. it is my mother´s home in Waiuku where an attempted burglary is made.

- My family is now geographically spread further apart than we ever have before. I´m in Argentina, Laura is in Wellington, Mark is keeping the home fires burning in Waiuku, and 18 year -old son Julian is (hopefully) on a plane to Australia to stay with his madrina* (godmother) in Broken Hill Australia, (* Learned that word when I was watching Shrek II with Spanish subtitles and soundtrack - a recommended approach to language learning).

-(Cue Fred Dagg music) We don´t know how lucky we are.

One Small Step for Mankind;One Huge Step for Me

2009-03-26T19:19:00.000-07:00

Today was the first day I had to find my way around by myself. It wouldn´t be so bad in an unknown English-speaking location, but combined with fears of personal safety, a congenital inability to distinguish between left and right when under pressure and the knowledge that if I got lost I was unlikely to have the language to anything more than make matters more confusing...I set off with Melisa´s hand-drawn map and instructions repeated many times with far more tolerance than I deserved.

We joke that in NZ, Melisa is young enough to be my daughter and I would be checking she was OK - but here, she is like my mother. She speaks English well and we speak a mixture of Spanish and English between us. She is by far the more capable and is my life-line. She has a cell phone for me to use and set it all up with her number and my AFS contact number. The first thing I had to do was learn all the instructions - in Spanish. I was tempted to cheat and change them into English ( for the sake of emergencies of course...) but, I don´t want to muck around with the settings in case I can´t find my way back. When I missed a call from Melisa today because I was in a class - I just gave the phone to a teenager who sorted it all out and rang her back for me.

Anyway, I put my sunglasses on, head up and tried to walk with the same confidence as other people seemed to do... except the footpaths of Parana are very uneven, with loose paving stones and random bits of loosened rubble. Crossing the roads is pretty scary also. There are pedestrian crossing but I daren´t test them because no one else seems to use them. The road system is one way in most places so, although the traffic drives on the right side of the road, it takes a few looks either way to confirm which way it is coming. In the end, I tried to walk at a speed that meant I arrived at an intersection at the same time as another person and just followed them across the road.

There is a wonderful mixture of sounds, smells and sights. I keep hearing a clip clop of horse´s hooves early in the morning and today discovered that it, indeed, belonged to a horse and small cart, the purpose of which I´m still not sure. The smells are strongly traffic and cigarette smoke but also some food and every building tends to smell of quite pleasant room fresheners. I was walking past a building site (thought it was because there were men with tools outside) and thought to myself, they are hammering in a very rhythmic way.... but I have a suspicion it was a dance studio and I´m leaning heavily towards the ideas that it could be tap dancing.

Anyway, I got to my school by myself and was overwhelmingly pleased (and relieved) as I knocked on the door to be let in. All school doors appear to be locked... The school (called STEP) is a private English school and has the most friendliest of people, some of whom have never spoken to an English-as-a-first-language-speaker before. I feel a responsibility to get my grammar correct as I can guarantee that the learners of English as a 2nd language put more effort into correct grammar than we do. I help out in English classes for all stages, then at 10.30 a.m. I go to the next school, down the road and around the corner - which I bravely did all by myself. I passed a group of very noisy singers who I was told were public school teachers demonstrating. I was on my way to a private school.

I spent an hour with a Spanish class who were studying Don Quixote. The school is named after Cervantes and I was thinking of the irony that, of all the students in the class, and possibly the teacher, I was most likely the only one who had been to the Cervantes monument in Madrid. The teacher spoke with such beautifully clear enunciation that I was able to recognise just about every word and understand a few phrases here and there. It is a joy to listen to Spanish when there is nothing expected of me.

After that, I sat in on a Geography class. The teacher spoke no English but some of the students were excited to have me in the class, either because I am a distraction or they want to practise their English. I think the girls are interested in Julian (18 year-old son) because family is one of the standard personal information questions they learn to ask. I was whisked away by a group of girls and I worked on answering questions on their lesson topic of environmental pollution with them. I can now discuss acid rain in Mexico with confidence.

A student organised ringing a taxi for me and I was home for lunch by 1.30pm. After lunch, siesta! What a superb institution!

I have to go as it is 12.15 am and I start at STEP school at 7.30 am tomorrow morning.

...........

It was absolutely amazing to be talking to (my sister) Lynn in Australia on Skype, in one of the English classes this morning. Then, to be able to talk on Skype to my Gardens School students in New Zealand (Hello Huia 1) who have so little Spanish language to use at this stage of the year, but confidently and enthusiastically share it all with Spanish speakers half way across the world. And, how lovely to be able to see, via Skpe, and some of your homework projects you showed me.... And awesome to catch up with Viv-who-has-already-been-to-Argentina who understands what it is like to be immersed in Argentina.

Closing observations and discoveries:
- You will never pack the right clothes
- Children´s television is, indeed, educational
-30 students can not fit into a laptop computer screen at once, when talking on Skype.
- When I was an exchange student at age 18 (and only to Australia!) I noticed how many differences there were between people and places.... at a more respectable age, I notice how many similarities there are.

G´Day Mate (Pronounced ´Mar-tay´¨)

2009-03-25T19:19:00.000-07:00

You cannot possibly say you have been to Argentina, or that you know anything about Argentina, unless you have tried mate (mar-tay). With respect to lovely people I already know in Argentina who love mate.... for me, it is a singularly awful taste - similar to very strong bitter herbal tea...and grass clippings. Here is a photo of my first experience which I took somewhat tentatively, mindful of my trail-blazing amiga Viviennne´s description of it during her visit to Argentina. It is not really a drink as such because the vessel is filled with .... something like dried herbs (a word I can´t remember but will fill in the gap when I get it right.....later.... it's called yerba mate), and then bit by bit hot water is added to fill in the gaps. People carry around hot thermos flasks and their mate vessels (will research what they are called) and top it up as they need to. The ´straw´ is metal (called a bombilla) and gets offered to others to share if desired. There are courtesies and traditions and light-hearted superstitions involved and I have been told many but cannot be precise enough to write them here.

I am currently watching children´s tv and am delighted that I can understand much of it. It´s the Disney Channel dubbed I think.

I am trying to work out how send a link to this blog to everyone because I can´t seem to find it in a search and yet I see that mi hermana (sister) Lynn has found me from Australia. I will see what I can do but I am working on an Argentinian keyboard so I have to slow down or go back and correct heaps of mistakes... and all the instructions and labels on my host family´s computer are in Spanish, of course, which fits the immersion experience. However, I worry I will delete or change something by accident.

Back to Frond

2009-03-25T18:49:00.000-07:00

The first thing I saw when I went into the family garage was a very close relation of the NZ fern. I have just realised what an "icon" of NZ the fern frond is. There is a palm tree behind it but to the left and right is the fern plant.

Lost for Words

2009-03-21T22:02:00.000-07:00

¡Estoy aquí! I am here (I think)
¡Hola a todos! Hello everyone

Mindful that the purpose of my intrepid journey is to improve my ability to speak and understand Spanish in an authentic context, I was quite excited to experience my first opportunity in the Aerolineas Argentinas check-in queue at Auckland airport when I was able to understand “cinco”, “pero” and “por ejemplo” ("five", "but" and "for example") overheard in random conversations. Yes! I was fluent in three words. This was a promising sign.

My next authentic experience was a little unnerving because, once on the plane, the safety instructions were given first in Spanish and then in English in a strong Spanish accent which still left me uncertain of what to do when "in the unlikely event of an emergency" I was finally in the water. It is always unsettling to realise that, in-the-unlikely-event-of-an-emergency, the fluent listeners will have a head start on survival.

In the spirit of the “immersion’ part of my immersion award, I listened to an Argentinian comedy channel on the in-flight entertainment, the only non-music option. Disappointingly, and disturbingly, I could only pick up one word veinti cinco (twentyfive) which sent the audience into peals of laughter. I only realised the channel had repeated itself when I heard veinticinco followed by the same peal of laughter. The third time round, with extreme focus, I picked up Japonais and a few pero. My confidence was diminishing...

As early evidence of my intercultural awareness and language immersion experience, I have discovered that:

- Jonah Lomu and the All Blacks are, indeed, New Zealand’s greatest icons, possibly followed by pavlova.
- it can be just as difficult to understand a non-English speaker’s English as it is to understand their Spanish.
- it is nigh on impossible to find Spanish slogans written on any clothing – they are all in English.
- computer keyboards in Argentina have a key specifically for ¿ ¡ and ñ , which comes as a relief but should not have come as a surprise.
- sitting in the (NZ) driver’s seat of a car, without a steering wheel, travelling on the right hand side of the road in cross traffic which does not seem to have seen you…is a real test of faith and self control.
- AFS volunteers and workers in Argentina (and I’m sure everywhere else) must be the most good-hearted people in the world. Evidence? Mariana had about one hour’s sleep over 24 hours seeing several groups of incoming arrivals to their various destinations and departure points (I was the last one at 11.55pm).And, AFS contact and host Mariela and Melisa arrived at 6.30am to pick me up from the Parana bus stop.
- long distance buses are double-decker, have capacious comfortable seats which recline to almost bed-like, (called semi-cama meaning semi-bed) all look brand-new and have a creative and colourful range of company logos.
- if you have no Spanish words to express, "Excuse me you are sitting on my blanket and pillow,¨ to the large man sleeping in the reclining seat behind you, or, "Excuse me, but that snack pack you have just picked up has slipped off my lap and under the seat to you,¨ to the man in the seat in front, reclining so far back that he is almost on your lap... then there is a good chance you will be hungry and frozen (extremely efficient air-con) for six and a half hours of bus travel.
- siestas are wonderful way to spend a few quiet hours in an air-conditioned bedroom.
- siestas have a slight side effect, in that I am writing this at 2.26am Sunday morning (6.26pm Sunday night NZ time) reasonably wide awake - but so is the rest of the household, and some visitors have only recently arrived.
- and are now departing to go disco dancing.
- it is exhausting having to think before I speak...
- I thought 2 oclock in the morning was a really late night (written at 3.15am).
- I am staying with a lovely family who are being kind and helpful beyond measure.

¡Hasta la Vista, Baby!

2009-03-18T17:49:00.000-07:00

I am almost within 24 hours of leaving NZ for Argentina and am having a crash course in setting up a blog with a lovely student from my class who has put my computer skills to shame. Sooo much to do, so little time left. Let's hope I can find my way back here again so that this is not the only entry on my adventure.

¡Hasta luego! ("See you later." That's Lesson number 1 for the non-Spanish speakers playing at home.)