Dear Uruguay,

Please quit being so amazing. Because it quite possibly might kill me when I have to leave.
Thanks.
Love,
Lauren

This place keeps getting under my skin. In a good way. Not like a parasite. And while I absolutely love it, I absolutely hate it because I eventually will have to go back to the states. But I will not hate it, because then I will return to Texas and have in-n-out and hair products and crunchy peanut butter, but still. Uruguay.is.fantastic. I did not think I would like it this much. I really didn't. And now I am here and I am falling in love and anticipating with dread the time that will come when my heart will break. Probably break into a billion pieces that will be scattered all over Montevideo. I am figuring that it will be an experience similar to when I left India, though probably intensified a billion times over, because I will have been here longer. I hate thinking about the fact that I am leaving, I want to be in the moment. But I think I live in the moment with the realization that I am leaving, and it's not necessarily taking anything away from the experience. I think that if it was, I wouldn't hang out with Diego or Ema or try and make friends or do half of the stuff that I do. Maybe, in a bit, it will turn the motivation around and make me push harder to do as much as I can, so that it is the greatest time of my life and I can look back and be happy I made it that way.

Anyway. I haven't been in a particularly great mood as of late and I do not know why. I was completely out of it last night, and I couldn't even blog about the soccer game that we went to, even though it was incredible. And I don't even remember what all I did on Friday. I wish I could. Anyway, last night we went to a soccer game. It was epic. One of the main teams of Uruguay, Peñarol, was playing another team that nobody knows, or, seemingly cares about. It wasn't a big game, but there were plenty of people to make it fun. Not just our group, but all of the die hard peñarol fans. We didn't sit with them, we sat in another part of the stadium, but we could still see them and hear their chanting and see them waving their banners and jumping up and down. The weather could not have been more perfect. Right before dusk, the sun warming us and the stadium but not making it hot,with a breeze blowing through. I looked down into a large, impeccably green feild dotted with men in yellow and black jerseys. After they warmed up for a few minutes, the match started, and everyone went crazy. You would think that at a friendly match, people would be a little more mellow, a little less into the game. Ohh no. Someone has pulled the wool over your eyes if you think that is the case. Because these peñarol fans are still crazy. I probably heard more Spanish expletives in two hours than I have in my whole Spanish career combined. These people love their fútbol. I wish with all my heart that I could understand why Latinos love fútbol so much, but alas, I do not think I ever will. I will try and try and try, but I don't think that I will ever love it as much as the peole here in Uruguay, or Argentina, or Honduras, or anywhere else. And that's ok, but it is just fascinating to see how people get so keyed up over fútbol. It runs through their veins. Save for a few random people I know from Latin American that do not like fútbol, but most of them live for the game. I guess that you could say when I was there I experienced the feeling, but I don't completely understand it. It was wonderful to watch, and I can only imagine the fervor that takes place at World Cup, if this is just a minor game. New life goal: Get to World Cup.

The best part was when peñarol scored a goal at the end. By that time, I had been so immersed in Latin sports culture that I was doing some of the hand motions that they were at the end when peñarol would be so close to making a goal, and then miss it. Or when the other team would get so close, and then miss it. Then, at the end, when one of the players scored a goal, the stadium erupted. It was kind of like a dragon was woken up. Everyone, including myself, was on their feet, cheering and screaming and high-fiving and hugging. The stadium literally crackled with excitement. It was on of the coolest experiences ever. I cannot even imagine being at a world cup or rival game and having your team score a goal. That might be slightly ridiculous. You might not have eardrums after that.

Point is: the game was fantastic.

After the game, I apparently lost my sense of sight, because I tripped on a block of cement in the middle of the sidewalk and made my toe all oozy and bloody. First injury ftw. I put ice on it and cleaned it and it looked like nothing happened. I have a defense system like a werewolf.

Friday night we went out to dinner in Ciudad Vieja. We got dressed up an went to some restaurant on some street. I don't remember either of the names. What a touristy thing to do. Anyway, it was so much fun. I went with the Doctor and some other girls and we had a wonderful time. It was quite wonderful because I felt like there was an appropriate balance of utter absurdity and hilariousness combined with some thoughtfulness. Our conversations ranged from kidnapping babies in Paraguay, to provocative bus adds, to politics (without the close-minded psycho emotional-ness that often comes with politics). Giggling about the waiter and the cortado at the end of the meal put the icing on the cake. I hope we can do that more often.

I found a wonderful little store by the Restaurant with No Name. It had a bag with Michael Jackson's face on it. I almost bought it on an impluse buy. Almost. I saved myself 35 dollars for when we got to BsAs. I pretty much cannot wait to go there. I am counting down the days!

I forgot to mention that at Carnaval I made friends. Because it's what you do. Apparently. They were girls my age, and one of their grandmas was there. People here are so nice. I am going to befriend the whole of Uruguay. Everyone will be my friend. Take that, facebook. I have a picture of the girls and me somewhere, I'll post it when I find it.

I seem to be spending a lot of time in cafés. Not that I mind, but I find that I frequent them a lot. I think it is because I have a mild cortado addiction. Cortado is God's gift to man. If you think I am jesting with you, I am not. At all. Cortado is incredibleee. So incredible that it is featured as the picture on the right of my blog. It is that good. I could drink it every day. Except that would mean I would have to go to a café every day. Hm. I might know of one.

The hamburger people still think I'm crazy! I went today to get a burger and see if I could get something I wanted, but I could not order my hamburguesa quesolechugamaizketchup because that is not what it comes with. Why, Lucas, why?! I just want four things! What is so wrong with that?! I will pay you extra! An extra dollar for your freaking trouble! Even though it is not hard to put lettuce, cheese, ketchup, and corn between two pieces of bread!!!

Ps. I bought a maté mug.
P.p.s. I love my life.

Dar Cuenta

Another Saturday in Montevideo.

I feel like everyone should be awake, it's 10 freaking 30. The day is dwindling, folks. Get up and live it.

I am supposed to be going to the beach today, to become a Greek goddess, but the person I am waiting for is still slumbering. I do not know if I can tolerate such sloth-like behavior from a group. I am appalled.

I feel like I have not posted anything for forever, when in reality it's only been a few days. So much has gone on and I am so exhausted that I haven't had time to post an excessive blog, like I usually do. I suppose I have time because of freaking sleeping beauty over thurr.


Thursday was the Carnaval Parade. And it was fantastic. I don't really know how to properly describe it, because it was so cool but I shall try. The parade did not start until around 9, even though it was supposed to have started at 8:30, and we left at 7:30. We sat right on the street, on hard green benches that were feet away from the acts that strutted and sauntered and sang their way down 18 de Julio. These benches lined the whole of 18 de Julio, which is one of the main streets in Montevideo. After we had been sitting for a while and I had embarrased myself in front of a very rude and attractive police officer, I continued to make a fool of myself by buying about 5 pounds of paper confetti and sprinkling it on everyone for about an hour. There is paper everywhere, still. I consider that a success in my book, but others would say otherwise. It was funny how many people wanted paper and didn't buy it themselves, it was 50 cents for two big bags of it. Needless to say, there were hills of paper pieces around us before the carnaval started. Whatever. It's carnaval. No one else has to freaking get their party on. But I did. Totally partied.
Then the floats and the groups came by. There was a wonderful float made out of recycled bottles, and I know that when I say that it sounds incredibly strange, but it was really neat. There were a few floats, and there were the queens of carnaval and candombe and salsa, that smiled and waved in sparkly dresses. There were also acts of about 9 or 10 people dressed up with elaborate costumes that looked like they were from waybackwhen that came around and danced and smiled and painted our faces and things like that. There was a group of gladiators, and a group of men in very sparkly suits that sang for us. It was lovely. My favorite, however, was the drummers. We learned all about them in our candombe class, and how there are different types of drums that make different sounds, and what their constumes signify. Candombe was originated from the Afro-Uruguayans back in the 17th century. Africans were brought to south America as slaves, and in order to preserve some of their culture, they continued to play drums and have a sort of festival when they didn't have work. They would take some of their old masters clothes and bust out their drums, and bam. Candombe. Candombe is an integral part of Uruguayan culture and is commemorated every year in Carnaval. The drummers that walk down the street wear black with white shoes that tie all the way up their legs, to represent the scars. In the drumline, each drummer takes a short, calculated step, the represent the chains that were worn on their feet. Like jazz, the candome drummers have no written music, but play together by listening to each other and playing accordingly. I do not remember why, but they play with one drumstick and one hand. Their drumbeats are some of the coolest things I have ever heard, as they walked by me the rhythms permeated everything around us. It was amazing. Click this link to see a video, if you wish. This is from this year's Carnaval.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w9XMLpWmzPE

Sorry About That.

So, yesterday I was in an absolutely horrible mood. We are talking horrid. So bad that I could not even blog. Which is saying something, because I absolutely love to blog. I get made fun of in the house because of my affinity for blogging. Thus, I was in very terrible mood indeed.

Anyway.

I posted some pictures. Just two. From the museum of indigenous art because they were interesting pictures. The funny thing is, though, that neither of the pictures I posted were of indigenous art. They were from the super random modern art exhibit that was on the third floor of the building. They had some very strange things, but some pretty cool things, like the cupcakes in a sheep pen. I really liked that. Because, duh, it's cupcakes and duh, I'm a girl. It's a match made in heaven. So that was cool. The actual indigenous art was pretty interesting too. I went into the museum without the greatest attitude, and I was thinking that I was not going to enjoy it at all, and that it was going to be boring and stupid and lame and whatever. And it was fascinating. But then again I am a huge history nerd and I get sucked in when people of the past are mentioned. There are a few pics on my facebook of some of the artifacts that were left, like a canoe and stone arrowheads and all sorts of things. The thing that I thought was most interesting was the indian tribe that sacrificed people and ate them. Yea. Definitely wrote some facts down about that. Yeah, it's gross. But come on. And it's not like they were cannibals. They did not periodically eat people for nourishment. It was a religious ritual; the leader of the tribe would always pick the enemie's strongest warrior or someone like that, and then they would ceremonially sacrifice him and eat him, in order to internalize the strength he possessed.

Yea. I listened. Yea. I'm a nerd.

I really did enjoy it. I talked with our tour guide, Luis, who several people on the excursion were kind of eyeing. He seemed like a pretty cool guy. We talked in Spanish. He said I was good at it. Win. But he really was informative and nice to us with our questions and everything. Plus it was hotter than the dickens throughout the whole building, so we all were sweating and fanning ourselves with notebooks in the typical tourist fashion. We saw some other Americans, and they started speaking English and I almost cried with joy. It is so wonderful to hear someone else speak English other than the people that I am with constantly. It was rather glorious, but they were leaving. Sad. Then some people from the group and I ended up at a café down the street, where I got a Cortado. Which is just coffee and milk, but it is like a work of art. And it is sooo delicious. They are a bit expensive, but oh well. I get them whenever I go to a café and try and act all cool. I got a killer picture out of it, i.e. my facebook profile and the picture on the right. So that was epic.

Day 2 out of 2 that murders my self-esteem. My first class was actually pretty good, thought I feel confused a lot, and we tend to get off topic more often than not. We ended up on conspiracy theories for about 10 hours before we got back on track. And those conspiracies really make me think. I mean, I don't automatically buy into a lot of them, but it makes me step back and question how great America is. It makes me step back and question the decisions that were made regarding war and treatment of other countries and terrorism and all of that. It's sort of painful to come to the realization that there are things wrong with the country. And I think that I am a bit slow on the draw regarding this realization, but I guess I've know for a while, I have just been denying it. And it is painful to realize that as a US citizen, I am going to have to come to terms with if I think that things that have happened are ok. And if not, then what? What do I do? This world is not is not a simple as people make it out to be. There is entirely too much to be thought through, and honestly, I am afraid to do it. I might realize that there are beliefs I have held onto for so long that I might have to give up because I don't see that they are right anymore. Or just be sad that I have to lose the Pollyanna factor in how I see a lot of the world. But I don't have to, necessarily. I could just choose to ignore it, and live as I always have, taking things at face value and not looking into them and thinking them through, which is a lot easier, or wrestle with a lot of the things that I have been learning about as of late. I don't know what it's gonna be. And that is scary too.

The seconds part of the day was truly dedicated to murdering my self-esteem. I am hating Spanish as of right now. A lot. I cannot understand it. And everyone speaks it. And I spend about 13 hours a week sitting in a class thinking 'I have taken Spanish for 8 years and this is the culmination. THIS is the culmination?!?!' I get so frustrated. At this class at University makes me nutsss. First, it's hot and I spend about and hour of it trying not to faint from heat exhaustion. Secondly, I don't know what is going on. She talked for an hour and I had a vague idea of what was happening. Third, there was a baby spider on my desk, and, because I have an affinity for spiders, I spend about 15 minutes watching him. He was a very comical spider. Fourth, our teacher is probably the worst teacher I have ever had in regards to writing notes on the board. She will write a few points, and then draw arrows and add 13 things to the list, and then add more around it. My notes look like a Pollack on a bad day. Sooo that is how things are going on the Spanish front. My roomate and I decided that we were going to have good attitudes, irrespective of how hard it is right now, it's going to get better, and we will understand everything in a few weeks. So, good attitude it is.

Another thing. Paper can work as an eraser. Fact.

I recently have been obsessed with the poet Rilke. Which is funny, considering I am in Latin American and there a lot of great poets down here. So that's funny.

Carnaval tonight! Look for pictures!
:)

Untitled.

Flipping exhausted. Short blog.

Cupcakes in a sheep pen.
This was at the museum with indigenous artifacts.
How it connects? I do not know

It is currently 1:30 in the morning.
And I cannot sleep.
So what do I do?
Blog.
Of course.
This could get out of hand.



I would like to direct your attention to the picture below.This is Lucas. I do not know if this is the one on my street.
But it is a Lucas. A hamburger place where you can get wicked cheap burgers. I think the most expensive thing on the menu is 55 pesos.
Which is about 2 American dollars.
And it's freaking good.

Needless to say many of my friends and I frequent this stand and stands like it all over Montevideo.
However, there is a small dilemma.

The people that work there think that I am on crack.

Why?
Beats me.

When you order a hamburger it can come with a bunch of things. You can get a hamburg comun, which is just mayo, ketchup, and mustard, or you can get a hamburg completa with cebollas, fritas, acietunas, morron, tomate, mayonesa, y algo asi.

However, when I order, I want neither of those. I would simply like some cheese, lettuce, ketchup, and corn. I know, it's lame, and I know it is not incorporating the culture and everything, but I just don't like those peppers. I am sorry.

On Sunday I asked Ema if I could order anything I wanted on my hamburger. And he told me I could. So, I figure I can just tell them what I want, and they'll just put in on there. Uruguayans are nice people, right? No big, they'll just put the stuff between the bun and I'll give 'em their dollar and a half, and it's a win win situation.

Oh, if only it were that simple.

I went there tonight on my way back from the park and I asked for the stuff on my burger, and the girl was giving me all sorts of dirty looks. Why? Who knows?! Not me. I was speaking Spanish, normal Spanish, not the kind where people think they know how to speak and yell out the words they want to say. Not like YO QUIERO UN HAMBURGUESA CON LECHUGA Y KAYYYYSOOOOO.

No. None of that.
I simply asked for lechuga, maiz, queso, and ketchup.
And this chick looked at me like I asked her to grill a kitten. She kept looking back at the other worker and asking if what I wanted was ok. Why wouldn't it be ok? You still get your 2 dollars, foolish!

Really. How hard is it to put those things in a hamburger.
I was nice about it. I didn't demand me some corn.
I even asked if it was ok.

But all I recieved was looks of disgust. And a hamburger that was not made with love. But with disdain.

Whatever. It was still good. Cheese, lettuce, ketchup, and corn are a dynamic combo.

Take that, angry grill girl.

Uggggghhhhhh.

I think I shall start this blog out by complaining about everything that I can possibly complain about, even if it is not true and I am just being psycho. Then I will feel better and manage to get on with my life and this experience.

1. I put my keyboard in Spanish and I am having quite a time figuring it out. I know this is an element completely within my control, so I should not be complaining about it, but it is still difficult to deal with. I feel like if I ever get to writing excessive essays in Spanish I want to have tildes and accents and all of that when I write, instead of faking it or just looking like a total moron when I am trying to type mañana or maté or something. I feel like once I figure out where everything is, I will be ok, but for now it is really frustrating to type a question mark and end up typing _. And, since I ask a ton of questions, I look even more like a retard because all I do is type _ when I try and ask questions. And it takes me about 9 hours to write a smiley face. I need to just write myself a post-it note to remind myself where things are. It will be ok. Also, I cannot type contractions. I might be able to once I figure out where everything is. But for now, please deal with my exponentially formal style.

2. I am officialy hating on the Spanish language as of late. First of all, my internet is in Spanish. Come on, Uruguay, I do not know spanish that well. I cannot read websites in Spanish. I can barely read pamphlets in Spanish, let alone entire websites. I do not know what anything means! It makes me want to cry. Second, I have about a billion hours of Spanish on Tuesdays and Thursdays, which basically makes me want to cry. I have an hour and a half Spanish Conversation class, and then after that, I have a literature class. All in Spanish. THERE IS NO ENGLISH. I REPEAT, NO ENGLISH. It is super tragic. The class in itself is not super difficult, but there is no English! My native tongue got kicked out on its butt, into the halways of the deserted University. I know he is very lonely out there, but my teacher will not let him in. Sorry, English.

Plus. NO one speaks it! Except the people in Casa. I have to go out there and get my Spanish on when all I want to do is talk in English, and my English is weird because I say lots of weird crap that will not translate into Spanish, or into anything, for that matter. So, when I do speak, it is a weird translation of my random idiosyncratic English. So I make no sense half the time. I feel as though I am in a catch-22; no one understands me in English or in Spanish. Sad day. I might just become a mime.

3. I feel like a moron in most of my classes. Along with that Spanish rant above, I feel like I am just dumb. It is as if everyone has something correct or interesting to say but me. And it is frustrating. Because I feel like I am moderately intelligent. Yet when I am in class, no es el caso. And in my freaking Latin American studies class, I read the freakin chapter twice. TWICE. And I still did poorly on a quiz. I do not know if that makes you angry, but it makes me angry. Because, really...I read the thing twice. Whatever. I am beasting that next quiz. Beasting it with a capital B. Which was a capital B, in that case, because it started the sentence. Needless to say I am slightly stressed out and overwhelmed with all of the reading and work that I have to do.

4. Oh, yea. It is basically hotter than the Dickens here. When we went into the classroom today I thought I was going to melt away until someone decided to open the windows. It was harrowing. I thought I was going to die. It is lovely in the late afternoon and the evening, but 11-2 is basically horrible. Just saying.

5. I have an itch I can't scratch. Not a literal one, but I want to go do something, but I do not know what or how or when, but I know I want to do something. I do not know if it is me getting pushed out of my comfort zone because I am desiring my own sense of "normalcy" that I had at home (Texas and California), and now I'm sort of afraid I will never be able to achieve that. Maybe I will when Uruguay becomes my home. That is a scary thought. Because I will eventually be leaving and I feel like a huge part of my heart will get ripped out. And that ish hurts. A lot. But really. I want to scratch this non-literal itch.

yessss I just found the apostrophe button! Winnnn.

I think that's all I really have to complain about. Now for the good stuff:

1. I finally turned in those blasted art papers. Describing my feelings and all sorts of nonsense. Who wants to talk about feelings? Not me. Because I lack emotion of any kind.
But really. They're pretty bad. I have a terribly time articulating how a piece of art makes me feel. I can feel, but I cannot write how I feel well. At least not well.

2. Day 1 out of two days of torture are done. Win. Tomorrow I don't have class until three. And class means I am going to a museum. Double win.

3. We had a Candombe workshop yesterday. So. Awesome. It's a super fun dance. It is relatively easy to do, and it was absolutely hysterical to see everyone dance like old women and old men. I literally fell over several times from laughter. If all the rest of y'all could see it...
I wish I could explain Candombe better. It is basically an African-Uruguayan tradition that was created by slaves from back in the day. They use three types of drums and don't read music, each of the drum players just go off of one aother and listen to the different sounds of the drums and if their tones and keys change. From what I have seen of it it looks fascinating. I really cannot describe a lot of this stuff very well, but I will be able to give a full report after the parade on Thursaday. I am terribly excited for it. There will be lots of pictures and maybe even a video if I can manage to get a good enough one. Drums are probably one of my favorite things in this entire universe. Besides owls. And Greek Yogurt.

K. This is too long. I might post more later. I have lots of thoughts swirling around in my brain. Sort of like tie-dye. Minus the weirdo hippie implications.

paz.

Please Pardon My Fervor

I apologize for my psychosis regarding our feathered friends.
But come on. Baby owl?

Sickk.

And I mean that in the best possible way.

I said that I had some epic things to report from yesterday. I suppose that is true.

After church Ema, Diego, and three girls I had not met before went to the Feria. Because it's apparently what we do. I think the Feria is so cool. I love open air markets, and you can buy anything and everything. They have wagons that just sell cheese, and tables upon tables of fruit and vegetables, honey stands, and in between each of those stands you can buy watches, video games (bootleg?), t-shirts, shoes, maté. And, as you can see from my fervor, you can buy most types of mammals. Reptiles too. And fish. And it's all cheap. I bet my precious baby owl was 3 or 4 dollars, my gatito 2. So it's awesome. And it's not far from where we live. Ema and Diego always take us and it's fun just to hang out. Except yesterday was a terrible Spanish day. Epic fail sauce all around. I couldn't order a hamburger to save my life, and then with Diego and Ema, any spanish I ever learned fell out of my brain. It basically disappaeared. Freaking annoying. And discouraging. I feel like this is the one thing that I am going to be hard on myself in, because there are a lot of ways to improve myself rapidly, but it's not happening. I need to take those opportunities and think through the Spanish and go over my vocab. I know how to do better. And I need to do better so that I can stop whining to myself about it. But it was the weirdest thing. The Spanish just didn't work. But then, a little bit later when we were all sitting outside talking, I felt mildly proficient again. Strange things. Then someone and I decided to try to take a bus to the mall. And like I think I said before, epic fail. Epiccc fail. We ended up getting off too soon or something, and we had to walk a billion miles uphil to find it. Which we did. And it was good. That was the kind of adventure I was itching for, and I was utterly content in the taxi on the way back, proud that I could figure it out and stoked on the fact that I can call a taxi without fear and that I had some kind of grasp of the city. It's a super cool feeling and I'm enjoying it a lot.

As I think about the Uruguayans I meet I realize that they are some of the nicest people ever. Not just like fake nice and not just polite. They are really nice, kind, caring people. We were talking about hospitality in chapel and it helped me realize that the Uruguayans are so hospitable, all of the time. Even if you're in a nonpersonal setting, people are still really nice. When you go into stores, you never feel like you are being an inconvenience or that weird feeling you get when some store workers make you feel like they are doing you a huge favor. They let you, and even encourage you, to go through the store and figure out what you like and don't like. Maybe it's just a ploy to make you buy stuff, but still. Either they're doing a better job of faking niceness in stores than in the U.S., or the are actually just really nice. Even at Plaza Independencia, the people selling antiques are friendly and aren't finicky about their stuff. Now that I write that I realize it's becase they wants thems some monies, but maybe it's not. Their attitudes are similar to other Uruguayans that I don't try and buy things from.

I also feel like extreme hospitality is standard outside of the Western world. The United States and the European countries I have visited pale in comparison the the graciousness that has recieved me in Asia or Africa. Even as I think about the way I was treated in India so long ago humbles me. Or how my American 'I can do anything' mentality came to a screeching halt as I was given water by a woman in Tsau when I didn't any or the means to find any. People outside the US have a much better understanding of hospitality and graciousness. It is something I want to learn how to implement when with wisdom whenever I have a house. Who knows when that will be.

I was again surprised at the sensitivity of myself here. All of the lack of distraction has given my heart the ability to feel more. I got really upset when I was looking at pictures of Haiti, and when someone shared a prayer request at chapel, it made my heart hurt. Which it normally doesn't, or at least not that poignatly. And, hello. my preicious baby owl. Shed some freaking tears for that. Almost. Anyway. Loving the feeling. I'm loving feeling for something.

paz. para ahora.

Freak.

After many years of loneliness, pain, and heartbreak, I have finally found the one that makes my heart whole. The one who makes me tear up with joy. The one who I love so very much.
There he is. Found him at the Feria. At Animal Corner. And, I kid you not, I almost started crying. Because he is an owl! And he is the most precious owl I have ever seen! And I want him! Almost more than I want my gatito!

But seriously. Life does not get better than baby owls. And to anyone who reads this, I will not bring you back one. If I am going to risk my safety, the safety of this sweet precious baby bird, and the safety of the United States, it is so that I can enjoy my owl in the comfort of my own home. Because, hello. Tears welled up in my eyes. I saw no weeping on y'alls part. None.

It is late. I will continue tomorrow. There is much to be explained.

Irony.

This pretty much sums up my day.
It's a Saturday and we are free to do what we want. Go to the beach, go shopping, do homework.
Whatever.
What did I choose to do?
Mercado del Puerto.
Also known as meat central.
All they serve is meat. Any and every kind of meat. Intestine. Gut. Errthang along those lines. One of the girls wanted to eat where Anthony Bourdain did when he was in Uruguay.
So that is how I spent my Saturday.
Well, not completely.

Newsflash.Newsflash.
Life goal completed.
One of them, at least. I managed to acquire antique crystal earrings. It was quite a process, given that I am a complete moron via the ATM front, which I needed because I did not have enough pesos to complete the transaction with the saleswoman, who is actually really cool. I like her a lot. I would hang out with her on weekends for fun while she sells her antiques. Speak Spanish. Smoke a cigarette. You know. The usual. Anyway, I have my earrings. And I absolutely love them. They are old and sparkly and wonderful and I cannot wait to wear them. Because they are cool. And from Czechloslovakia. But I bought them in Uruguay. Bam. Extra cool points.
Anyway, after I made my transaction, 3 of us walked down more streets of antiques. I found diamond rings from the 20s and instantly fell in love, but I realized (with the help of a friend) that the love I feel for such beautiful pieces will be unrequieted, because I don't know where the diamonds came from. So. My heart kind of broke. A small price to pay for sticking to my convictions. Plus I save about $450 dollars. Win.
They have the coolest antiques here. I want to buy all of the jewelry and just wear it and be awesome and vintage-y all the time.

This post is becomine entirely too girly. I must continue instead of fussing about sparkly things.

After we navigated through the ways of old and hidden treasures, we were on our way to the Meat Market. I don't remember which way we walked exactly, but we walked down near the port on some streets that didn't have anyone on them. The streets were entirely empty save for about 6 random dogs. 6 dogs and a random woman, sitting on a chair, eating a popsicle. I walked by her, not thinking anything of it, the rest of the group behind me due to my epic powerwalking skills. The lady didn't say anything to me, but as the other 3 behind me passed, she said hello. And when I say said I mean semi-yelled. I was rather alarmed that she said anything, since she was just sitting there with a popsicle or whatever. As we all passed by her, someone goes, "I think that I just saw my first prostitute in Uruguay." But I don't know if it was a prostitue. Though it's probable. Some random lady sitting on a street corner? Could be.
Maybe she's just crazy. Or hot.
After we passed the alleged strumpet, we ended up at the end of the block, where we kept walking until we ended up under a sign that led us to the Mercado del Puerto. We walked in and our senses were immediately assaulted with the sounds of sizzling meat, the heavenly odor of cut potatoes frying in things they shouldn't be, and bright, bold signs proudly displaying type after type of meat, each one saying that theirs in the best. We found the place that Anthony Bourdain ate at and sat at the bar, where immediately a waiter descended on us with menus and asked if we wanted water without gas. He then immediately told us the best thing to eat on the menu and starting list of all kinds of meat that I had no idea what they were. So, since we were were at the meat palace, and we were going to eat meat, we ordered it. Thinking that it was going to take a long time to get our food and that we had time to relax and look around, we were not expecting a giant pot of meat to appear in front of us in less than five minutes. And I mean giant.
Lots and lots of meat. Yum.
Except it was a lot of weird things.
Like cow glands. And blood sausage.
Cow glands = nay. Freak nay.
Blood Sausage = not too bad actually. I could put it on a bagel. Yummy.
I thnk I also had cow kidney. Which someone told me was pork. So I don't even know.
But yea. Lots of meat.
We took a taxi back, because we didn't want to walk for scads and scads of time, because we had already walked all the way to Plaza Independencia, and then to the meat market. So we taxied it home. The person who sat in the front basically got hit on by an extremely old man. With missing teeth. He asked for her number, which I think is hysterical. Because the girl in the front is about 20. And the driver was probably about 70. Hil.ar.i.ou.s.

Yesterday I walked to this fantastic cafe. It wasn't a long walk, about 20 minutes. I spent forever there, doing homework, studying, staring at the cute men, you know. It was really good. They had awesome cortado. My dinner from there consisted of a piece of chocolate cake with a thick layer of dulce de leche. And a chocolate crust. Needless to say I'm not going ot eat until Tuesday. Afterwards I walked around towards the beach, and then I walked back. I wasn't by myself, but it wouldn't have been weird if I had. I feel completely comfortable in the city, walking around by myself. I mean, there are shady places that I wouldn't dare go by myself, and I wouldn't ever go out by myself at night, but I feel like everyone freaked me out about being down here by myself, when it's not even that big of a deal. That does not in any way mean that I am not aware of my surroundings, or that I just am going to wander off into random areas that I am not familiar, I am simply saying the times I have gone out I feel safe. I think part of that is because I know Spanish, and if there was a legitimate problem I would be able to get by with the Spanish I know. I am not totally in the dark. I don't feel like I stick out and I don't feel incredibly naive. Thus, I don't have a problem doing things alone. I like doing things alone. I don't know why. Probably because I'm weird. And a loner.

I feel like I had more to say. But I really don't, now that I think about it. Meat, cafes, being by myself in the city. Yep. Basically covers it.

paz.

Clarity

Done with class at 10.

Win.

I am currently sitting here debating whether or not to actually do work or just go to the beach and do it all tomorrow. Or doing it all now. Or going for a walk. Or just going back to sleep.

Choices, choices. I live a hard life.

Some random observations:
-The laundry detergent at my lavaderia smells like a spring meadow on crack. It is incredibly strong. When I opened the bags I nearly fell over from the smell. It doesn't smell bad, it's just overwhelming sometimes.
-I am apparently allergic to cities, because I could not smell or breathe for the better part of yesterday. It's quite a think to have your sinuses so impacted it hurts to smile. But if that's the only problem I will ever have here, I will not complain. It could be a lot worse. And today it is a lot better. I think it will just take a while to get used to. And I have time. So it's all good.
-I got a mosquito bite on my neck. It's gross. It's the second one I've gotten. Ick. I normally don't get bit by mosquito, or if I do it's only like 3 or 4 times. But now I look like the mosquito went all Twilight on me. And now I have a welt on my neck. If it's anything like my other bites, it'll go away soon. Some jerk of a mosquito tried to bite my toe, but I killed that sucker. Ha. Pun. Win.
-All of the men here are extremely attractive. In case anyone was wondering. They are everywhere.
-Most people that talk about not forming cliques....most always form them.


I got catcalled yesterday. Halfway. Sort of. Acutally I'm not sure if I did. But I think when we were in the taxi some dude in the car next to us started talking to us. I promptly ignored him. But after a week and a half, it happened. I think they were a bit overzealous regarding the habits of men here. Because I've walked by plenty of men and they keep their mouthes closed. So I don't know. Also yesterday I flagged down a taxi and had a whole conversation in Spanish without thinking about it a ton. I mean, I probably sounded like crap, but the fact that I was able to hold a conversation for like 10 minutes with someone who knew no English, I was pretty proud of myself. Slowly but surely, I am hacking through the jungle. Now that I think about it, I don't really know where my destination is once I get out of the jungle. But at that point I don't really think that I will care where I am, as long as I am out of the jungle.

I think since I've been down here I have had an alarming amount of clarity in life. Well, no, that's not the right phrasing. I have been able to identify things more clearly within myself and ask/deal with the heard stuff that I've pushed away and distracted myself with. For example, right now, I realized that I have been sitting in my room a lot sitting on my computer. I realized that I was doing that, and since I'm in Uruguay, I really shouldn't be doing that, because hello, I'm in freaking Uruguay and I should be out doing my thaang and drinking Mate and eating pizza or olimpicos or walking around or shopping. Something. Anything. Anything other than sitting in my room. But that is where I have found myself as of late. But I think before I wouldn't have realized it. I would have just let it happen. But now that I've recognized it, it could be one of two things. One, it's that I am part introvert (yes. I am an introvert. It's true) and that I need to have a lot of time to myself to recharge and regain my sanity, and I have to do that alone, just blogging or listening to music or looking at stumbleupon.com. It's either that, or I feel like everyone I am currently living with hates me and the only people that like me are the people back home, so I spend every waking moment on my computer, hoping that someone from a past life will sign on and I can talk to them because they actually like me and think I'm freaking hilarious. If I really want to think about it more I think that it's a mixture of both, but more the former than the latter. We have just been going and going and going and going, with all of our tours and museums and stuff, that I just need to stop and chill out. Plus, all of the school work and everything, I just need to calm down and regain my sanity.

The legislative palace was pretty cool. It was like our Capitol, but way smaller. But it was still really pretty and you could tell that the Uruguayans are very proud of their palace. It was made of several types of marble and had beautiful mosiacs and there were soldiers and everything. Their declaration of independence was in the building, and when I first saw it I didn't really feel like it was significant. But then when I thought about it, I realized that this Declaration of Independence is like mine. But it's theirs. How they feel about it is how I feel about mine. And I hope that if you're reading this you know me well enough to know how I feel about my Declaration of Independence. It was cool to find a common feeling between me and Uruguay relating our histories that we are very proud of. I feel like I'm learning a lot about Uruguay, which I love, but I feel like that will make it ultimately more painful to leave.

I had Calimari last night. Along with squash, good bread, and good company. One of my favorite quotes was by Marley, who said "The best beef I have ever had was from a cow that I knew personally."

This could be looking up.

I must continue to practice my Dior pose.
The weekend is coming...

Why Are We So Busy?

I don't have much time to make an epic post, like they usually are (joke), but I figure that I should blog now before we have to hit the open road for another excursion. I swear, I have been on more excursions this past week than I have in my life. You think I'm kidding.

I'm not.

Yesterday we took a city bus tour, which I sort of enjoyed. It was one of those +/- things, because while it was cool we got to see a lot of the city in a small amount of time, and there are some pretty sweet things around here. We went by the stadium, built between 1929 and 1930 in order to host the World Cup. We drove by the port, where it was noted that many drunken sailors hangout, and we stopped at a bronze statue in order to take a picture, and Alex almost got thrown in the pond. Hilarious. The coolest part was, however, went we went to the "big" hill that Montevideo was named after. That was probably my favorite part. We got to see the entire city from the hill, it was clear and beautiful and you could see the ocean for miles and miles and miles. It's a haunting and comforting feeling at the same time. I rather enjoy the sea.
The area that we were in wasn't the best, which made me sad, because I would love to just go sit at that hill all the time. But I would probably get mugged. Or something. And that would not be good. I don't want to have half of my pictures in Uruguay with black eyes. Or stitches. Ew.

We also went to a very cool cemetery that had all sorts of epic tombstones. There are a few pictures of it on my facebook, but my battery died right as we got there. Awesome, I know. But I took a lot of videos that I am debating posting because it just makes us (me) look like idiot(s). I kind of want to post the cat one because that was hilarious. We wanted to pet these kittens (yes. I am now obsessed with cats) and as we were walking over to one, Crazy Cat Lady, latina style, started yelling at us, saying that we are scaring them and that they wouldn't eat if we were there because we were scaring them. It was sliiiightly embarrassing. But still. I don't know the feeding schedule of the Cat Lady. We all felt slightly awkward but then we felt better once we heard her yelling at the cats as well. We all became united under a rainbow of abuse that day. It was a beautiful thing.

I like how I did the order our day backwards. That is amusing to me. Because we definitely went to the cemetary first. And passed the stadium last.

I think that for about 2 more months my Tuesday/Thursdays are going to be the days where I feel like a fantastic moron. Terrorism studies makes me feel like a fool. And after getting served by some subjective terms about highly reactionary topics, I get to attempt to understand a language that more often than not doesn't make sense. It kind of feels like in terrorism I am someone in the CIA trying to dechiper a ancient code in a computer and then when I'm in Spanish I feel like I am trying to force myself through an Amazon jungle with a dull machete. I mean, I know that it will get better, but right now, I'm rather frustrated.

(p.s. Right now I am listening to the coolest song ever. It's called Alice No Pais Da Maladragem. It's by Da Lata featuring Pedro Martin. Freaking awesome)

I must also say that I have never had to read this much in my life. I have 6 books. That have to be completed. Super epic sauce. Too bad only 2 of them are interesting. Sad.

I sound so pessimistic. I really am not. I am having a fantastic time. I'll get through it.

But for now, The Legislative Palace calls.

Paz.

Comfort.

Can I just say that I hate that the internet is in Spanish here. I mean, now that I think about it, I'm in a Spanish speaking country, what else would I expect? Stupid ethnocentric moment. But still. It's frustrating.

I'm almost done with Dead Aid. Thank goodness. I probably won't remember a lot of what I read because I am not fantastically well versed in economics, but at least I am not an ignoramus anymore and now know that we can't just be throwing money at Africa all the time. Bad plan. When I finish this stupid book I plan to forge through The Grapes of Wrath, as it is a poignant memoir of my ancestors. Not the actual people in the book, but the Dust Bowl/Depression is how my family ended up in California. And that is the reason I am not a "southerner". But I sort of consider myself one. Don't you judge me.

Another thing I must say is that my schedule rules. Sort of. On Monday and Wednesday I have nothing to do until 3. Friday, I'm done at 10.

Win. Sauce.

Tuesdays and Thursdays are rather hellish, to be honest. 9:30-11:00; 11:00-12:30, and starting next week, 2:00-4:00.

Fail sauce.

I think that some of the classes will get easier as I get more comfortable and proficient with Spanish. But starting off, they are rather brutal. I will not lie to you. Plus it's hard because it is hotter than Hades and I'm sweating/dying most of the time. Whatever. I'll get used to it. My classes are really good and I think I'll enjoy them more once I get in the swing of things.

I titled this blog comfort because for the first time since I've been here, that adjective popped into my head. I was comfortable. Comfortable with my room, comfortable via temperature, comfortable via knowing my way (sorta) around the city, and finally, an element of comfort with the people that I'm with. I've never disliked them, but last night, even though as I was studying and people were watching movies or skyping or whatever, it finally felt right. Like, it felt ok.
Now I don't know if that is because I have not been extremely involved with the people here or because we are truly starting to bond. Because I feel as though I am a bit of a loner here, by my own choice, not because people don't like me. And I don't know if it's a good thing that I am, or if I need to up the anty on the involvement scale. I would like to know so that I can get the most out of this adventure, and not miss out on any knowledge or anything from anyone. I would like to be able to tell that more definitively and take action to change something, if it needs to be fixed.
I was wondering about this because I feel way calmer here. Maybe it's Uruguay, maybe it's because it's just super mellow, or maybe it's because I'm not with people. And I can't figure it out. I don't want to act like I'm on sugar pills all the time, but I feel like I'm too mellow. And it sort of weirds me out. But I feel like it's necessary. I'm not as nuts because I don't have my car and my phone and tons of people and those friggin cowboys distracting me. I'm actually able to think things through and identify why I'm feeling a certain way or whatever. And I wonder if that will change if I throw myself into getting to know the people I'm here with. I feel like when I say that I make myself look like I sit in a corner with a book all the time, but that's not the case. I guess just incorporating myself into the group more; I wonder if I did that how it would affect me. The times I am, I don't act ridiculous (in my opinion), so maybe it won't change. This was a confusing topic. This probably doesn't make sense. It made more sense when I was thinking about it last night.

Maybe I'm too calm. Because I'm never like this and it's weirding me out. Whatever. I'm not gonna freak out. It is just noted. In my brain. Brain note.

I don't know what else to post about. Clarity has been on my mind a lot, which is what I guess I was trying to convey in that previous paragraph. Which is ironic, because that doesn't make any sense. At least to me.

We are going to the hill that is famous here on a bus tour later on. I'm pretty excited. Because it's a bust tour. Which means I don't have to walk for an abhorrent amount of miles, but I still get to see the city. I consider that a definite win.

Well I have some reading to do.

Paz.

A Change in the Weather.

I just realized that I can change the fonts and colors on my blog.

Well, I can't change them a lot, I just a few. But I can change the colors. Whoopee. I feel like I can go crazy.

It's raining here in Uruguay. It's a nice change, I must say, from it being hotter than the dickens and me walking around sweating something terrible. That and my feet swelling up to inappropriate proportions My feet were definitely the size of Canada last night and it was unpleasant. I didn't really know what to do. But thankfully it is cooler. So I don't have to worry now. I honestly wouldn't mind if it stayed like this for a long, long time. Because most of my clothes are getting laundered and I would like it to stay like this for a while so I can wear stuff I haven't been able to normally.

Day two of class today. And I must say it's exhausting. Really, really exhausting. First I had my Terrorism Studies class, which I have a feeling is going to be fantastic because the group in there is so strange. In a good way, of course. But there's only like 6 of us, so it's bound to get weird. But you know what? That's ok. I'm excited to see what will happen in that class. Then after that, I had my advanced conversation class. That was legitimately the most draining experience I have ever had in my life. You think I am kidding. But straight up. I am not tripping. It was exhausting. Again, it's a small class, which is good, but there was so much Spanish going on. I definitely had to focus. Which isn't bad. But still. It was super intense. We just learned about the men that ride around on carts pulled by horses that pick up things that are recyclable and sell them to big recycling companies. Which was interesting. I learned lots of new verbs. I see a few of those men in carts around in the streets from time to time. It's kind of cool because it harkens (is that a word) back to the good old days, but then it's sad at the same time because that's how they make their money; going through trash.

Today we walked to the Catholic University. I am super pumped to go there next week. I am slightly nervous because my teacher is either a crazy German man who is impossible or a cool woman who is just cool. I dunno. But I know that I have to walk there twice a week starting next week for a literature class. It's not a bad walk. I initially thought that it was terrible, but it really isn't that far. And doesn't take that long. But there I must walk. It was a bust because on the way back it started pouring. Not just raining. Like, legitimate soakage happened. My bag, dress, and shoes were completely soaked. My mascara was running down my cheeks and my hair looked like I was just washed up on a beach. Super attractive. But I changed and it is cool enough to wear my flannel shirt comfortably. Soo I am wearing it. I feel like I have a lot of work, but I don't at the same time. I've done all of my reading and spanish hw but I probably should go through my readings again, and read The Purple Land for my arts class, though I don't really want to. I didn't quite realize how much reading I have. And I have to share books, which peeves me. Not that I don't want to share, I just don't want to be looking for a book when I want to read it. But whatever. I'll get over it. Life is about sacrifices.

This is kind of a pointless blog. I feel like I'm doing this blog all wrong. I have nothing really interesting to say, but I didn't think that every time I blogged I would. I'm trying to think of anything super fascinating that happened, but nothing speaks to me. Because I just had leftovers. And did homework. Well, other than that I walked and got school supplies. And soap. Or something. Yea. Nothing super exciting to report. Except I still want my gatito very very badly.

K. I'll stop now. Since all of my blogs are apparently too long.

Paz .

Finally. Some Time. Maybe.

So I think I have adequate time to write something significant on my blog. Maybe. I have a lot to do today. I don't have class until 3. Which I think is awesome. I really hope I can figure out a way to make it work to my advantage instead of making it just sleepfest 2010 down here. Which I think it won't. Abbey and I are getting off to a good start by going to bed around the same time consistently, which is sort of a first for me, which I like. I had tried to convince myself for a long time that I could run on minimal amounts of sleep, which isn't true at all. I need a ton of sleep. There, I said it. I need sleep. Going to bed at 3 in the morning just doesn't make me feel good. Except one time I was up until four and then I slept in until noon and I was alarmingly ok. But I've done that before, staying up until obscene hours and then sleeping in until two and I feel like crap. That had nothing to do with anything.


Anyway.


As I'm here I feel like it feels very missionary. And when I say missionary a lot of the stuff I'm feeling resembles the feelings I've had when I've been abroad. I just feel more peaceful, calmer. I don't feel like there is a need to be as ridiculous as I usually am. I mean, ridiculousness for me is basically inescapable, but I just feel like it's in smaller doses and it's like necessary ridiculous. Like Connor started freaking out on me when I was taping everything in sight on our way to the Feria yesterday. But he definitely should not give me flack, because when he is all alone up in Norcal (ew) crying and missing Uruguay he'll go to my facebook and watch all of my videos and say "wow. I shouldn't have ridiculed her. She is so freaking awesome for taping like a fool." That's probably what is going to happen. Point is, is that I will always be slightly ridiculous. I just feel more settled. Like, in myself. And I like it. And I don't know if this is true, or if this feeling is going to go away, but I feel like I'm on a mission trip. I feel like I have very specific objectives when I'm here. Which is what we always had whenever I went anywhere, like Thailand or Peru or whatever. Whereas back at school, or home, I didn't really have specific objectives. I mean I had goals, but they got lost in the shuffle of the craziness that I perpetuated within myself. I think I will gain an element of clarity that I need to learn how to permanently obtain so that I can have clarity as I make my way into the future, with my career plans or goals or whatever. Because that bridge is going to come up to me wayyy faster than I will anticipate. And I want to be ready. I want to hear from God what I'm supposed to or where I should go instead of getting my answers from other people or doing things so people will like me or so I'll look good. I really feel like this is a time where I can seek out the Lord and have him clean out my heart and let me realize things about myself and other people that I can use in my future.

I made a list of things that I would talk about today. Let's see how much I can get through before I realize that I am spending entirely too much time on the computer and need to actually go act all hardcore local sauce on the streets of Montevideo.

1. Feria. The Feria is a huge open air market. There is one right by where we are staying, and then there's one over on the other side of town, by Punta Carretas. There's also one in Ciudad Vieja, but that's more of an antique market (p.s. Life goal: buy a pair of vintage European crystal earrings for cheap to wear in Buenos Aires). But it's a super cool place and you can buy everything under the sun. MJ posters in Spanish, shoes, books, ducks. Yes. Ducks. It goes in all different directions for many blocks and there's all sorts of people that are shopping with their maté. Super cool. It's kind of a bust to walk around in when it is hotter than the dickens. But it's still really cool. I like the one by us more than the one by the beach.

2. I feel like it is necessary to post a picture of this cat that I want. He is two dollars. My gatito lindo.



He was two dollars and the Feria and I want want want him. He is too cute. TWO DOLLARS. Come on now. That is a deal. They have all sorts of obscene animals. They were selling ducks and all sorts of weird birds and stuff. It was freaking cool. Granted, most of them have disgusting diseases and ticks and stuff. But whatever. What I save in buying my gatito I can use to pay for medical bills. I feel like it is a win-win situation. Cat. And money for when I get diseases.

3. Punta Carretas. Punta Carretas is absolutely hilarious because at the present moment it is a mall, but it used to be a prison where they tortured political prisoners. I don't know why I used the adjective hilarious, but really, if you think about it, this was an extremely efficient use of space. It's a huge mall with all sorts of awesome stores. They even have a really really nice grocery store underneath some of the stores. There's a food court and kiosks and stuff. Its a really nice mall. Which previous tortured political prisoners. I bought a fantastic shirt at Zara when I was there. On sale. Win.

4. All of these things that I have previously mentioned I have undoubtedly had to walk to. I have done horrific amounts of walking since I've been here, and it's only day 5. My feet are still swollen. I walked from ciudad vieja all the way back to Casa on 18, which took almost an hour. Then we have to walk anywhere to go to stores or anything. I mean, you can take taxis and buses, which I have done and are both fantastic and cheap, but most people are always walking everywhere. So that's what we do as well. My feet are in a constant state of pain. But I figure I should give it a few days/weeks until my feet stop protesting. I do not mind the walking because all I do is eat things slathered with mayonnaise and pizza dripping with cheese because of the scads of cheese piled on top of it. It's all delicious, but I feel as though anything below my waist will resent my lack of willpower. So, walk I shall. I'm also gonna go join a gym. You know. Just in case.

5. Ok. I have heard that you get cat called here and men are always like "wassuppp pretty ladyyyy" blah blah on and on, except in Spanish and usually about 4 degrees more obscene. Can I just say that that has NOT happened. I bet I just jinxed myself. But really. I have gone out by myself and with one other girl, no cat calls. Nothing. I got checked out, sure. But that does not count. I have not gotten a catcall. Not that I want one, but I guess I was just expecting it already. I hope that doesn't sound creepy. I bet once it starts happening I'll freak out. So who knows. And probably by writing this I just jinxed myself.

6. May I just say that I am terrible at Spanish. I don't care what any of y'all say. My Spanish is deplorable. I feel like people look at my like I speak jibberish. When I'm just speaking what I was taught. I dunno. It's really frustrating. It's day ive and I feel like I should be better than I am. I get really discouraged really easily. Then I don't even want to speak it. Like when I was at the Feria I was looking at an old typewriter (p.s. Life goal: acquire and old school typewriter) and I told the guy I wanted an older one. But I used viejo instead of antigua. Sooo the guy thought I was talking about him. Being old. Fail, Lauren Johnson. Fail. But I guess I just have to realize that this is going to happen for a while. I just need to put on my big girl pants and have no fear and just get craaazy with learning Spanish. I feel like I'm so close to understanding, but then the different sounding y, j, and ll sound are different, and then everyone talks about a billion miles an hour, so that throws me. Off. I feel like I'm being a little too hard on myself, because we've been here for 5 days and I'm expecting fluency to just happen. Which it doesn't. I have to work at it, even though I am constantly surrounding by Spanish. Believe me, it's everywhere. Now that I think about it, it has to be a whole lot worse if you know absolutely no Spanish. I cannot imagine how terrifying that would be. I would definitely be crying all the time if that were the case. But it's not. But I'm still not satisfied with the proficiency of my Spanish. In time, in time.

7. We start classes today. I have 3 and half hours before I have to go. Thus, the blog that is longer than time. Anyway, I'm really excited. It doesn't seem like a super difficult load that I have, and I'm technically taking 15 hours here because one of the classes was the INTS one, and I don't have to do anything there. So this is the least amount I've taken. And I'm really looking forward to my classes. The only one I'm slightly worried about is my POLS class, because I'm afraid I won't be able to grasp all of the elusive and subjective nonsense we have to talk about all semester. I mean, I'm soo excited, but I already started reading my book, and it's dense. I am reading it super slowly because I want to make sure I understand everything and it's not confusing or I missed something. But other than that I'm stoked. AND I am stoked for my Advanced Spanish Conversation class. Bring onnn the conversation. I am ready!

8. I made friends with some of the people from the church. We finally got to meet them last night because we got a tour of the church, which actually used to be an old coffee factory, so it's huge and there's lots of space and secret passageways and ladders and stuff. The people that live at the church actually live above us, we can hear the little girls yelling and giggling at night as we're hanging out in our rooms, because there is a courtyard right in the middle of Casa, so we can hear everything. I am currently listening to Hillsong on my computer and David Gray from Dr. Gentry's room, across the courtyard. Killing two birds with one stone. Win. Anyway, I met Ema, full name Emmanuel, and Diego. And they're sooo cool. They took us to the Feria and all over town, and we ended up in this restaurant where we ate these massive sandwiches called Olimpicos. They are rather ginormous. They have three pieces of bread and are filled with ham and eggs and olives and all sorts of stuff. It took me a while to decide if I liked them or not, but I decided I do like them. They're super interesting. I think they'll grow on me. But Ema and Diego are super cool. They help me with my pathetico Spanish and make me laugh. I can't wait to get to know them better.

k. Well that took up about a bazillion hours. But that's what's been going on here. I need to go run some errands. So I'm out. Miss y'all! Send letters! Or emails!

Blogging is Harder than I thought.

So every time I sit down to blog I realize that I have entirely way too much to say about everything. I suppose I can make a short list and come back to it later. So, so far in my life, there have been

-Ferrias
-Two Dollar Kittens
-Olimpicos
-Spanish. Some Spanish. Did I mention there's Spanish in my life?
-Walking ungodly amounts.
-New Friends
-Classes starting tomorrow.

I must say life is good.

Documenting.

I don't know if I am really going to have time to write allllll that has happened in the past 36 hours or so. But I shall do my best. I am exhausted and full of Steak and Potatoes, (I don't know why I capitalized those) so I don't know how much I can fully relay with humor and commentary because I am absolutely exhausted. But here I go.
We left school around 11. I was incensed because Mother Nature decided to pick a bone with me and flattened my hair to pancake status for the 20 minutes I was outside in the mist. Freaking mad. We had our prayer, our hugs, or, better to say, all the clique-y Oxford people hugged all of the people they couldn't bear to be separated from each other for any amount of time so they could continue to be their clique-y selves. Anyway. Whatever. We left and got to DFW around one.
Too bad our flight didn't leave until 6.
So DFW and I became really good friends. We hung out a lot, especially on the Skylink.
I went to Chili's with some friends in the B terminal and then we got coffee and then went back to D terminal. And still had like 4 hours before our flight left.
So then I took the Skylink to E. Why? I don't know. I ended up looking for books. I would.
I went back to the terminal to find we had even more time left because our flight got delayed like thirty minutes. So then we finally got on our plane and we all were looking at skymall magazine. That is probably the most hilarious thing I've ever read in my life. Who needs a cell phone holder that you put on your wrist? I mean really. It's hilarious. So that took a whole 15 minutes of the two and a half hour flight.
I don't really remember the rest of the flight. I think I read Dead Aid. Which is probably the most boring book known to man, talking bout bonds and the Dongo and China and all sorts of nonsense. I really wish that I had more prior knowledge of most things economic related before I read that book. Because I have no clue what that woman talks about most of the time. It’s slightly frustrated but I have vowed to myself that I will finish it. I only have about 50 more pages, and if I ever read it again in my life or ever need to brush up on the economic problems of Africa, I will have at least some basis of what I’m talking about instead of starting from scratch. Man, Africa has a lot of problems. You think it’s soo simple. Oh, oh no. Giving money to third world countries is bad idea. Baaaaad idea, lemme tell ya.
Anyway. We made it to Miami, our connecting destination, where we practically had to run to make the flight, and when we made it, where the flight from hell ensued. It was just bad and I cannot really explain to you why it was so horrible. I was comfortable, except I had the munchies for about 75% of the trip. I felt like I had smoked a HUGE pile of weed. Not that I smoke weed anyway, but still. That’s what I imagine that it would feel like. I sort of felt ok when we got our meal, but that was at like 1 o’clock in the morning. So my food system is all messed up. Well, it was. Now I’m just getting fat because of all of the amazing food I’m eating all of the time. I didn’t really sleep. It got off to a kind of bumpy start because apparently the air conditioner was rearing its ugly head of rebellion, so we had to sit on the plan for an hour and a half before the beast was tamed. So when we finally got out of North America, I slept on my tray table for a few hours, then I woke up to find everyone else was passed out, so there was no one to play with on the plane. For hours in endless agony I tried different ways to sleep; back on the tray table, sitting up, nothing could lull me back into a state of semi-consciousness. I tried for several hours in vain, only to drift into hazy slumber until the sun wedged its way through the cracks on the plane windows. We got fed breakfast, which I devoured, then I promptly changed into the pants and sandals that I had been carrying around in my backpack for the last 16 hours. After several more hours of listening to a dead ipod and looking around to see sleepyheads arise from their REM cycle. When the captain finally switched off the fasten seat belt sign, you cannot imagine the joy and relief that flowed from my soul. Finally. After driving, waiting, flying, running, sitting, flying/dying, I finally was going to land in the place I had been anticipating for months: Uruguay.
As I looked around when wheels and earth united, I saw sky. Lots of blue sky. Not my Africa sky, but a foreign South American sky. It was hot. Very hot. Very sunny. Lovely, obviously, coming from the frozen tundra known as Abilene. I felt like a genius as I walked off the plane with my legs exposed and my North Face jacket tucked neatly in my backpack. We went through customs very quickly, and I now have another stamp on my passport. Uruguay and Africa sound very exotic together, I think. Which I like. It makes me sound interesting. So if anyone ever begins to think I am a terribly boring person I can just whip out my passport and point and say, “I definitely am interesting. Botswana, Zimbabwe, AND Uruguay let me in. I have to be slightly fascinating.” But I never carry my passport with me anywhere. Hm.
After customs and baggage, we finally met the Walkers, who are fantastic. I really like both of them. They spent time in Botswana, which is way cool, because I can talk about it with them and bond over the sand and those moments where you just go ‘T.I.A.” So that’s rather exciting. They’re really nice people and I’m looking forward to getting to know them. So we finally got on the bus. Finally. Finally. We drove to Casa, the long way, and I got to see Uruguay. It’s rather foresty at some parts. Which was cool. Someone was selling hammocks on the side of the road. I enjoyed that and as I took a picture I tried justifying to myself the need for a hammock. I have nowhere to put a hammock.
Anyway. We finally saw the ocean. The beautiful Atlantic Ocean. And it was super comforting. Living by the beach for such a long amount of time allows huge expanses of sea to comfort you after being shell shocked from a bazillion hours of travel. As we drove along I taped it. I hope it’s warm because we are planning on going over there very soon. We stopped at this park and it was lovely. We all got out and took pictures of the ocean, the buildings and the sea squishing a swirling tan line up the coast, dotted with a lime or a polka-dot bathing suit. We could see all the way up the coast of Montevideo. Pretty cool, I must say.
I paused as I watched the Uruguayan flag wave in the breeze. I would be proud to be a Uruguayan under that flag; it was waving in proudly in a subtle way. It had a quiet and enduring grace as it stood on its coast, the blue in the flag and the clear blue sky complimenting each other. It was then I decided that Uruguay was fantastic and immediately took a liking to it.
After our brief stint at the park, or seawall, whatever it’s called, we made it to Casa. After about a million ours, I had reached home. Which is currently where I am sitting, typing this so that everyone in the states or wherever they are can read it. I’m in my room, a room across the courtyard, the best room, according to a certain wise and anonymous source. Abbey is my roommate and I cannot say how happy I am that she and I decided to room together. She is a fantastic person and I love her dearly and I cannot wait to share this adventure with her. If you leave our room and turn right, you immediately hit the courtyard, and walk into one of the main halls of the main house at Casa. Turn right and follow a hallway all the way down to the kitchen, which is what we did first the second we walked through the door. Raquel and Mariela were waiting for us with giant plates of empanadas de maiz, pollo, carne, y queso. And for desert, empanadas de dulce de leche.
Needless to say, it was amazing. We had been so hungry and it was wonderful to have a meal ready for us after we had been driving for so long. So after we had lunch upon arriving, we were forced against our will to familiarize ourselves with our surroundings. Which I didn’t mind in particular, except for the fact that the group I was in had someone that lost their ATM card within five minutes of being out in a totally unfamiliar city. So we went back to Casa and hung out, but then Jacob (the other guy in the group) and I went out and hit the town. We went to Tres Cruces, the ginormous bus stop and walked around like tourist for quite some time trying to find everything. But I am happy to know where the bus station is in case I decide that everyone is driving me crazy and I have to book it to Chile or something. Or Rio. Or maybe I’ll just sit in the bus station.
We got back and debriefed about our experiences around town. Which was terribly informative, I feel like it helped me get my lay of the land a lot better than if we just sat around with each other. Not that I don’t like sitting, or being with people, but it was definitely cool to know about where the cambio is and the nearest supermarket and all sorts of things like that. Which I like knowing. After we had our intro to Uruguay they told us we were going out to eat, to the Mercado de Abundancia. Which basically seemed like an old warehouse with restaurants and I think there were some stores inside. IT was funny how it was set up because there were a lot of tables set up everywhere where everyone sat, and then the places they actually prepared the food were in the corner. It wasn’t like you went in to a restaurant and it was all exclusive and closed off. All of these tables were separated by small gates and walkways, but they were all different restaurants, but all on the same floor, with the cooking areas in the back. It was funny because I noticed that in one corner it was a place where you could learn how to tango. Which is exceedingly exciting, because it’s sort of been a life dream of mine to become a tango beast. I cannot explain to you how epic that would be. Tango is some fun nonsense. But it’s hard. Really, really hard. I forgot to mention that below the restaurants/tangofest was a Mercado, where they sold all sorts of cool things, like handmade leather and mate gourds and all sorts of stuff like that. So after we had been looking around we went to eat, where I had my first chivito of this experience, and I must say that it was awesome. I got it sin mayonesa, which is probably going to be one of my more excellent life choices. But it was amazing. I don’t even know what all is in a chivito other than pure awesomeness. There’s ham, steak, cheese, lettuce, and egg all rolled into a meat pancake dish. It was served with potato salad, salad, and fries. So amazing. I wish I could eat them all the time but I decided that I am not going to eat them all of the time because then they won’t be as good or as special. But they were delicious. We had a little bit of ice cream after that and then took a taxi back to Casa. Taxis are probably by far the way to go.

I’m sorry that this blog is so lame now, I promise I’ll get pictures or videos up soon! And I promise that my writing will improve!

Boring Title. Impending Travel. Uncertainty.

I really have nothing to say other than I am in Texas, which just makes me smile.
But then also makes my stomach do a gymnastics act that would make Shawn Johnson jealous.

Because I am so close to leaving.
Scared.Nervous.Terrified.Excited.Anxious.Sad.

Not ready.

Yet this is the kind of opportunity I've dreamed about. Getting on a plane to some foreign place, getting ready for some big adventures and new experiences. New people, new learning opportunities. All mine. All sorts of moments that are just sitting in Uruguay, waiting for me to be seized and throttled within an inch of their lives.

But it's up to me to take them. To make sure I gather and throttle so many moments that Uruguay cannot even see straight. I pray to God that I will only be so bold as to take those moments, and not let them pass me by.

I hope I can stay consistent in this blog, because I know a lot of people are back home, wanting to read it. So I will to my best to write beautiful and humorous descriptions about this foreign land that will undoubtedly worm its way into my heart. I hope that lovely words will pour from my fingers and into this blog, and I hope that growth and maturity and certainty will emerge, like the fingers on the beach of Punto del Este.

Pray for me.

Why Am I Doing This. Why. ?!

I feel like these entries are getting repetitive because all I talk about is going to Uruguay, and how I don't know how I ended up signing up for Uruguay. But really. I am getting more scared to leave this country as the days fade into history. I feel like I want to ask everyone about Uruguay, but then I don't want any other perspectives of the country other than my own, because I know nothing about it, and publishing companies are extremely unhelpful regarding publishing books about Uruguay, even though they managed to scrape together enough information to make a book about the Sudan. I'm sure as many people go to Sudan as they go to Uruguay. But Sudan still has a book. And so does Fiji. When all you really do in Fiji is snorkel. And eat bananas. Or something.

Anyway.
I am trying to identify exactly why I am terrified. And I cannot. I suppose, more than anything, it's fear of the unknown. I don't know what I am expecting, and therefore I cannot ascertain whether or not I will like it or hate it, love it or despise it. Most people that went LOVED it, i.e. Brandon and Lawson and Morgan and whoever else I know that went there, but I'm just not sure if I will. The last time I said that I didn't know if I would love it, or even like it, was went I went to India. And if you know anything about me, you know how well that worked out.

I think that the one unrealistic expectation I have for Uruguay is what it is going to do for me. I feel like it is going to solve all of my problems, fix all of my character flaws, make me a better person overall, fix any bullcrap stuff I have going on with relationships and boys and people and my parents and my future, but it is not going to fix me. I believe that it will be a giant detangler of some sorts, I believe that it is going to help me figure things out about myself and other people, and in a way it will be a repairing time, but at the same time, Uruguay is not my savior. Jesus is my savior. If I have any hope of wanting to fix anything that is wrong with me, I have to go to him, not Uruguay. Though I expect to find Jesus in Uruguay in ways I wouldn't here. I think as long as I have that clear, it shouldn't be a problem.

Well. Portfolio calls. Screw you, portfolio.