whoa baby, now I´m home

We took our first exam today. It was a stresser before the class began since we had no idea what to look for in our text book. Apparently they don't believe in telling you test format or in giving reviews or a study guide here. That is something strictly U.S. of A-esque. In any case, I think I survived it... we'll see after dinner if I don't think of something I forgot and go, "CRAP!" keel over and die of a stress-attack. I think that is a million years away from happening since, just this afternoon I was discussing the incredible differences between how our universities work here and I think the words I specifically used were, "slack" and "bull-s#*t" to describe the Argentine system. Some days I sit and have to revel in the extensive organization of my country, and I think when I do finally start participating in that system again I won't say a word ever again about how much paperwork there is to fill out on forms, requests, data entry, major purchases and simple returns, basic necesities require PAPER. Today, our test was four questions scratched on the black board. That is what I call preservation of resources!

dancing queen

Saturday night though, I have to say was a riot! The whole bunch of us including Guille and Gustavo went out to this club where it seemed like half the tiny province-town of Iguazu showed up on Saturday nights. When we first arrived we were handed the ever-famous free trago coupon, we walked throught the doors at midnight at first to find the joint nearly completely empty. We filled the little place up fast and 20 minutes into it I realized they were not passing one or 2 songs of salsa, but that the early part of the night is dedicated to the genre. I about died when I thought of how seriously lacking the place was with actual salsa dancers. Just as my ganas to dance were about to make my chest explode I spotted a skinny black dude near the bar who was grooving to the music in an obviously rythmically educated manner. My first thought was "Cuban" since I'd seen him earlier behind the DJ booth when I recalled "Represent" by Orishas (a famous cubas hiphop group).

Oh well, what the heck. I stood up from a complicated position in the midst of 10 or so ISA students and without a word about my intentions I walked straight up to him - after being confusedly intervened by the mozo asking if I needed a drink - to be greeted with a dropped jaw and amused black eyes.

"Quieres bailar conmigo?"

"Si!"

We were the only two fools on the dance floor and we were there a straight 15 minutes bailando como si no viniera manana, sweating, exerting energy, laughing at my rusty steps, and impressing the whole room.

Such a great moment!

where the water falls

We went on Saturday to Las Cataratas de Iguazu on Agentina and Brazil's border. We began the day right (though leaning on the wrong foot - I'd forgotten to pack socks for a long day's walk). We got on our Omnibus, all 20-or-so ISA students, Guillermo and Gonzalo our ISA bosses, Margarita (Maggie) our National Park guide and Ormiga our bus driver, plus myself. I sat with Gonzalo during most of the trip because he was the only one who didn't speak much English, "more for me I say." We arrived at the Park around 9:15 disembarked the big 'ol bus and began our long trek through the dense subtropic forest of Northern Argentina in a province called Misiones.

The day started off wonderfully and if I could justifiably describe the numbers and colors of the butterflies we saw the entire day it would still not bring you to understand the magical beauty of it all. I said "magical." That means I'm nuts, a dork, or the scene really resembled a bit of the mystic.

We first walked a short stretch to a train yard specially constructed for National Park transport, took several photos of butterflies while we waited and finally choo-chooed to Garganta del Diablo (Devil's Throat). Our guide said the name was ironic: an ugly name for such a beautiful scene. When we arrived I could see both the irony and logic. It was incredible, yes, but just as I would never want to go anywhere near the throat of the devil, nor would I want to find myself in close proximity to this monster. We'd walked a good 1/4 mile to arrive at the lookout of the falls, through selva, on a man-made mesh-metal bridge-walkway. We turned a corner around the lower-growing greenery and we were met with first the sight of huge clouds of mist dancing and changing shape in the sunshine. Soon after we encountered that sight we came upon the source: The Devil's Throat. The only way to describe the giant is to say it was very nearly indescribable, powerful, loud, and hugely panoramic. You could feel, hear, taste, touch and even smell the majesty. The spray on my face was a refreshing reminder of how good it is to be living in a moment so worth treasuring.

The vision of the Swifts (birds) flying in and out of the wall of water as though they were super flying fish was another cause for wonder. I thanked God in that moment for allowing me to see, touch and experience such beauty.

We also walked along the same constructed metal pathway built seemingly right smack in the middle of the river to see the rest of the falls. At one point near the end of the tour we were nearly just below one of the smaller rushes of water and we in effect took a shower togther - clothes on, camera in hand - under the loud cascade of millions of liters of water. Afterwards we strolled down down down the metal constructed path that was now in the form of a gigantic staircase to a boat launch area. We strapped on our life vests (the size of two watermelons across your chest), climbed in a 30-seater speed boat for one of the best "waterpark" amusement rides of my life. Speeding through the rapids as close to the falls as the experienced driver dared was a rush I had never imagined experiencing. Gustavo and I were the only fools brave enough to sit all the way in the back of the boat - where our driver was decked out in rubber - since we knew that was were we would get the wettest, and we did! :)

Trying hard

There came a point in my experiences here where in my mind it was difficult to see through the fog of socializing with buddies, going on a date here and there, concerts, shopping, school, studying, drinking mate, etc. I stopped the other day to meditate on my reasons again for coming here. The funny thing is, I can't answer the question, "why did I come here?" When people ask usually I just say it was because I had recently broken up with my boyfriend and there was nothing more to keep me at home and besides, hey, my best friend was already here! Except you and I both know that there are a million things that caused me to make this decision even if they are difficult to define to the roaming public.

I think I decided a while back that the purpose was going unfulfilled and I decided then to take things into my own hands. I joined a psychodrama course at the local cultural center. It kinda freaks me out since after the first class this week I still couldn't really tell you what it is. Basically I'm forced out of my comfort zone and forced to talk and listen to other people and contribute to a weird dramatic concoction of skits and plays in a setting of only 10 people. It was really quite fantastic, but I think I will have more to tell after a few weeks.

I've been yelled at before for not blogging, but I believe this entry will both suffice and leave something wanting. In any case, I've got a bus to catch!