(no subject)
Argentina was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. Upon hearing the words Quilmes and empanadas, it makes me nostalgic like no other.
I didn't get much of a culture shock or jet lagged as I hoped I would have gotten, thinking it was required in order to qualify my trip as a truly international trip. However the daily grind and food we underwent qualified surely enough, of course.
My first week was tough enough though, traveling with people that didn't know me well enough. They thought I was an alcoholic and shopaholic due to my excessive nature and tendencies, judging me in almost every endeavor I set out on doing. However, I knew their care was necessary, especially since we were in a different country let alone different hemisphere. However I justified my actions due to the fact it was my first time outside of the states and due to my lack of experience, I just happened to have gotten a little bit over-excited. I mean my third night I accidentally drank a little too much passed out in a club, got escorted out then proceeded to vom in the streets.
I miss the daily routine we had, waking up in the morning, getting breakfast at either the hotel, and if we slept in, succumb to going to the sandwicheria next door or the Chinese supermarket down the street. I miss going out with my friends, starting out our nights at 2 in the morning, ending at 6 since the sun wouldn't set till 10 at night. I miss the endless drone of our tour guide in her broken English, even as annoying it may have been. I miss the feeling of false security, having 100 pesos in my hand when I really had 27 American dollars. I miss the $3 handles of vodka and $1 liters of Quilmes (Argentinian beer). I miss being regulars at the supermarket and making friends with the cashiers there. I miss going to the open 25 hours convenient store (we were regulars there too) and buying empanadas, quiche, and sandwiches to satisfy my drunken munchies. I miss how slutty our other tour guide was, trying to mack on the guys on our trip and teaching them dirty Spanish sayings. I miss going to Uruguay for the day and renting out bikes and finally being able to hang at the beach. I miss getting smashed so much at the all you can drink places such as the gaucho ranch and the tango show. I miss the pronunciation of caje instead of calle or poyjo instead of pollo. I miss Palermo, Recoleta, La Boca, and San Telmo. I most of all miss meeting new people and being so close to my classmates.
Somehow we only heard "Don't cry for me argentina" only ONCE on this entire trip. The only complaint I have.
I loved feeding the pigeons in the Plaza de Mayo.
Getting a haircut within the first week we got there! Can you take her now?!
Watching the BCS game and then trying to start fights with people out in the streets afterwards b/c i was pissed. Oops.
Tango lesson.
Tango show. This was an illegal picture.
Horse races in Palermo. I bet ten pesos on a horse in which he got second! Too bad I got nothing for it.
YUMMMM. Empanadas.
Me and the empanada challenge. I had to eat 11 empanadas within 35 minutes. I failed miserably.
Going to the cemetary in recoleta. It was insane.
Eva Peron's dead body was raped multiple times, even by her guard because the rich hated her for helping out the poor.
The slutty tourguide and I at a club.
I barely paid attention. I would just get caught up on what she said in a fraction of the time it took her to say it.
What a surprise.
We were desperate for a pool so we sneak into the hilton and marriott to find one.
Many senior picture opportunities on this trip.
I loved my quilmes...
The plaza de mayo at night.
Our usual visit to the 25 hour store. A prostitute happened to be there.
My last trip to the Chinese market with my cashier friend.
They were definitely like family to me.
And...I'm definitely going back.
I'm reading clockwork orange now for philo class and it makes me sad. I don't know if I like it. But I appreciate it.
I didn't get much of a culture shock or jet lagged as I hoped I would have gotten, thinking it was required in order to qualify my trip as a truly international trip. However the daily grind and food we underwent qualified surely enough, of course.
My first week was tough enough though, traveling with people that didn't know me well enough. They thought I was an alcoholic and shopaholic due to my excessive nature and tendencies, judging me in almost every endeavor I set out on doing. However, I knew their care was necessary, especially since we were in a different country let alone different hemisphere. However I justified my actions due to the fact it was my first time outside of the states and due to my lack of experience, I just happened to have gotten a little bit over-excited. I mean my third night I accidentally drank a little too much passed out in a club, got escorted out then proceeded to vom in the streets.
I miss the daily routine we had, waking up in the morning, getting breakfast at either the hotel, and if we slept in, succumb to going to the sandwicheria next door or the Chinese supermarket down the street. I miss going out with my friends, starting out our nights at 2 in the morning, ending at 6 since the sun wouldn't set till 10 at night. I miss the endless drone of our tour guide in her broken English, even as annoying it may have been. I miss the feeling of false security, having 100 pesos in my hand when I really had 27 American dollars. I miss the $3 handles of vodka and $1 liters of Quilmes (Argentinian beer). I miss being regulars at the supermarket and making friends with the cashiers there. I miss going to the open 25 hours convenient store (we were regulars there too) and buying empanadas, quiche, and sandwiches to satisfy my drunken munchies. I miss how slutty our other tour guide was, trying to mack on the guys on our trip and teaching them dirty Spanish sayings. I miss going to Uruguay for the day and renting out bikes and finally being able to hang at the beach. I miss getting smashed so much at the all you can drink places such as the gaucho ranch and the tango show. I miss the pronunciation of caje instead of calle or poyjo instead of pollo. I miss Palermo, Recoleta, La Boca, and San Telmo. I most of all miss meeting new people and being so close to my classmates.
Somehow we only heard "Don't cry for me argentina" only ONCE on this entire trip. The only complaint I have.
I loved feeding the pigeons in the Plaza de Mayo.
Getting a haircut within the first week we got there! Can you take her now?!
Watching the BCS game and then trying to start fights with people out in the streets afterwards b/c i was pissed. Oops.
Tango lesson.
Tango show. This was an illegal picture.
Horse races in Palermo. I bet ten pesos on a horse in which he got second! Too bad I got nothing for it.
YUMMMM. Empanadas.
Me and the empanada challenge. I had to eat 11 empanadas within 35 minutes. I failed miserably.
Going to the cemetary in recoleta. It was insane.
Eva Peron's dead body was raped multiple times, even by her guard because the rich hated her for helping out the poor.
The slutty tourguide and I at a club.
I barely paid attention. I would just get caught up on what she said in a fraction of the time it took her to say it.
What a surprise.
We were desperate for a pool so we sneak into the hilton and marriott to find one.
Many senior picture opportunities on this trip.
I loved my quilmes...
The plaza de mayo at night.
Our usual visit to the 25 hour store. A prostitute happened to be there.
My last trip to the Chinese market with my cashier friend.
They were definitely like family to me.
And...I'm definitely going back.
I'm reading clockwork orange now for philo class and it makes me sad. I don't know if I like it. But I appreciate it.