Recap

Hola a todos!  I haven't blogged a while so I thought I should fill you all in on what's going on here. This week was super, super, duper long.  My class seems like it is never going to end and the troubles that I have awaiting me next week are really putting a damper on right now.  It's as if I have a big dark cloud that I can see in the future but it's not quite here yet.  Yet.  It will be next week.

Next week I have to take my final exam for my class which is worth 45% of my grade.  No big deal, I know.  The following day I get to take yet another exam that determines my whole future.  This exam truly is either my ticket to graduating on time or the reason I don't.  While here, my plan is to take two classes with other international students and one class here at the university with students from Argentina.  In order to take the class at the university that I NEED to take this semester in order to graduate on time, I must get a certain score on the exam next week.  If not, I don't take the class, and then I have to stay at Eastern and extra semester, which might just be impossible because of how expensive it is.  I have worked my butt off for this Spanish major and it seems so silly to me that one exam can make or break it all, but it can.  Oh and on another positive note, the exam is hard.  Really hard.  Hard like my professor told our whole class we won't do well on it.  Not kidding.  She actually told us we all probably would not get the scores we need to.  How encouraging right?

I'm at this point where I care so much, I really do, but I also just don't because there is nothing else I can do. I just have to go and take the exam and do my best and see what happens.  If I pass, thank goodness, and if I don't, then I will just take it from there.

Other than all of that stress, Cordoba is slowly growing on me...it's becoming home.  I am getting a little bit more familiar with the streets and the colectivo so I'm more confident now.  This new house is also starting to feel like home.  It helps that my bed is made for me everyday, my laundry is done for me just about every day, food is made for me at every meal, and this home and everyone who enters are just overflowing with love.  I truly could not have asked for a better family or place to call home.

I also feel like my Spanish is improving every day.  Things that I never knew how to say are just coming out of my mouth, and I find myself constantly stopping and just being shocked by it.  Immersion really works.  However, with that being said I am currently struggling because the other students talk in English all the time when not in class.  I hate it, but I love them.  If we were all in the US not trying to learn Spanish I would have no problem with it.  However, due to the fact that we are here in Argentina, we all at least have a foundation in Spanish, and we are all trying to improve in it, I have been really frustrated by this.  I don't want to be rude to any of them, but I find myself very quiet during lunch times, and if I do say something I try to say it in Spanish, but then I just feel awkward because they all respond in English.  Therefore, I have found myself spening less time with them and more time with my family.  Instead of going out somewhere after class, I go home and have tea with mi abuela.  I love the students and I think they are all so great, but I came here to speak in and learn Spanish.  I have to do that.

Due to this, I am even more grateful for my family and my speaking partner- people who speak Spanish and who I spend lots of time with. I am hoping that I can meet more people from here so that I can have more friends, ones that speak Spanish.  However, for now I will continue trying to speak only in Spanish and will really monitor how much time I spend with people speaking English.  I feel so selfish to say that, but I just did not come here to speak in English.  I do think things will get better though, when classes start and we all have different schedules.  We will be forced to make new friends, and then I won't feel as bad for making myself an outcast like I have these past few weeks.

Oh and PS, when I finally get my phone in the mail, I will take pictures of my home, mi mama, mi abuela, la comida, el centro, el colectivo, todo.  Promise.  I just hope I get it soon!

          

I'm not creative enough to think of a title for this one, so just read it, please.

This weekend has been one for the books.  On Friday, I went to a tango class with my speaking parter, Florencia and her friend Gime.  I was so excited to learn some tango and spend time with them...that is, until we arrived.  Imgaine this: my two friends and I dressed in jeans and boots walking into a room full of women in dresses and super high heels and men wearing dress pants and dance shoes.  We thought it was a class for beginners.  It wasn't.  These people were pros.  We didn't even have partners, so we ended up standing by ourselves, laughed hysterically and kind of interrupted the whole class, and then we took off laughing out the the door we had just come in.  It was hilarious, and after watching people tango for a few minutes I am not sure I could ever do that.  They were so serious, and looked like they were in pain from concentrating so hard.  I have trouble with the two-step...the tango is never happening.

So since we then had the whole night free, the three of us went to a panaderia and bought criollos and other sweets and went back to Florencia's apartment to drink mate and enjoy the fresh goodies.  We sat for hours and talked, and drank, and ate, and it was great.  I especially loved that we talked about the difficulties of learning languages.  Even though the two girls are learning English and I am learning Spanish, we had so many difficulties in common!  It was awesome to talk about them (in Spanish of course) and learn from each other.  I really appreciate my speaking partner and her friend and I love that I am meeting people from here.  The best way to learn a culture is to be immersed in it, and I am so glad that I am branching out past the other foreign students and am truly learning to be a Cordobesa.

Yesterday was a day of great challenges, great laughter, and lots and lots of love.  I met the whole family.  Every family member of my host family came over to visit.  It was amazing and I have never felt so much love from strangers in my entire life.  I LOVE that here in Argentina, it does not matter if you have never seen the person before in your life, when you walk up to them, you give them a hug, a kiss, and some words of affirmation that you appreciate their presence.  This culture is truly defined by people, relationships, family, love, and everything else is just extra.  Material things truly do not matter.

Anyways, all day long we talked and I got to know everyone as we ate empanadas (SO GOOD...the US went wrong somewhere.  Why don't we have empanadas as a staple?).  However the challenge with this was that I was in a small house with about thirty other people speaking in Spanish all at. the. same. time. I'm so serious.  I was trying so hard to concentrate on conversations that my brain actually began to hurt.  At one point I was trying to talk to a kind gentleman sitting next to me (He's family, but I really have no idea who he is or what his name is.  I think he's a cousin, or maybe an uncle, or an in-law...no clue) and he asked me a question.  I had no idea what he said because I could not hear a word he said, so I took a wild guess.  I said, "well my dad is Lebanese."  He responded with "ohhhhh."  I immediately knew I had just butchered that response.  I soon learned that he asked me if I missed my family.  The way he asked was "les extrano?"  The word for foreigner is "extranjero".  I thought he was asking about the decent of my family, while all along he just wanted to know if I missed them or not.  Classic mistake.  I'm still laughing about this.

When things finally died down and everyone left, I felt a kind of tired that I have never felt before in my life.  My brain was done.  The remedy?  Netflix.  In English.  With Spanish subtitles because I had no choice, my laptop knows I am in Argentina.  I felt like I deserved a sappy, comforting romantic comedy in my native language after a day of Spanish like nothing I've ever experienced before.  It was just what I need to wind down and trun off my brain so I could get some much needed rest.

However, little did I know the celebrations continued today!  Some family members spent the night so I pretty much had to do it all over again today, but I was rested enough to take on the challenge.  I spent all day talking and laughing and getting to know the sisters of mi mama.  They are so loving to the point where it's like I almost have three mothers here.  They take care of me.  I can't even count on my fingers all of the times I have heard in the past two days, "comiste?" (did you eat?), "queres un te o cafe?" (do you want a tea or coffee?), "porfavor comi" (please eat...they are so concerned about this always!), or "no no no no te preocupes, sientate" (no no no don't worry, sit....anytime I tried to help with anything).  Although I wish they would have let me help with something, it is also comforting to be taken care of.  It makes me feel at home and loved and safe, and at a place so far from home, I need to feel that.

It is crazy that I already feel like I am adapting to this culture well.  I am getting so accustomed to going with the flow - to stopping whatever I am doing when a visitor comes; to kissing everyone on the cheek, always, no exceptions, ever, really; to passing the cup of mate around the table to people who were strangers about an hour ago but so quickly feel like family; to forgetting about things like to-do lists and cleaning and running errands, because they are so not important; to having meals last at least an hour and half because no conversation can be rushed; to welcoming surprise dinner guests, and sharing whatever we have to eat with them because that's just what we do, that's what we were meant to do, I think; to not try to impress people with things, but rather bless them and be blessed by them with conversation and love; to truly caring about others and completely putting them before yourself; to living the way I imagine Jesus did and the way I imagine He wants us to live.

I don't know what these people believe in, or if they believe in anything or anyone, but there is something natural about the way of life here that makes me feel like we are living like Jesus.  I already know I will have trouble with the transition back to the States because of this.  I will struggle with a rushed lifestyle, I will struggle with that culture's constant need to put on a show for others rather than just being real, I will struggle with the lack of intentional, heartfelt conversation, and I will struggle with missing the love-centered culture here in Argentina.  Love-centered.  That's what's most important.  For now though, I won't think about what challenge awaits me five months from now, but rather I will choose to be blessed by this and take from it as much as I can.  Maybe, I can take enough to bring a bit back with me and start something new back at home...something slower, something intentional, something where anyone of any race, gender, socioeconomic status, sexual orientation, culture, language, age, or religion can come and sit at any table, because every table welcomes any person.  Because I'm pretty sure that if Jesus were there He'd want everyone to come, and I'm pretty sure he'd have love to offer to all.    

This is not a dream

Second week of class down, thank goodness.  I think that last week I ran off of adrenaline, and this week I've got nothing left in me.  I'm tired, worn down, missing home, and not to mention my mind is constantly working in two different languages to listen, understand, translate, speak, repeat.  The accent here is getting easier to understand and I am finding myself understanding things that I know for a fact a week ago I would not have had a single clue as to what someone was saying.  I am also getting more confident in my ability to speak, even though every time I speak to someone on the street that doesn't already know me, they always ask where I'm from.  And I just say "the United States, it's obvious, I know."  However, they usually respond surprised and say something about how well I speak for a United Statesian.  That always makes me a bit happy, whether it's the truth or not.

Anyways, this week has been tough, and it's making me realize how hard this experience is.  It is a wonderful, beautiful, inexplicable, daily struggle.  I am not homesick or depressed or crying all the time (in fact the only time I've cried was when I got robbed), but this is hard.  I used to think that studying abroad was going to be all butterflies and flowers and just great all the time, but it's not.  It is a struggle to make a new house feel like home.  It's a struggle to force myself to be completely independent with some things that I'd prefer to have some help with.  It's a struggle to adapt to a new way of life.  It's a struggle to think about what and who I am missing back home.  It's a struggle to to understand different accents.  It's a struggle to live in the 2nd largest city in this country (I miss York...two main streets-Philadelphia and Market, so you can't get lost).  However, this is also the best experience of my life.  I am learning to make this place home.  I'm learning to become independent.  I'm learning to love this more intentional, slow-paced way of life.  I'm learning how to be a good, supportive, loving, daughter, sister, family member and friend from oceans away.  I'm learning to appreciate the richness of the cultural diversity that exists here.  And I'm learning to love this big, vibrant city.  But that doesn't mean it's easy.

There is so much here to be thankful for, and since in my last post I listed all of the things that, well let's just say I could do without, this time I'll tell you about the things that I love about here.

1.  My host family.  They couldn't be more helpful loving and supportive, while at the same time pushing me to be independent and learn the way of life here.

2. My professor.  Even though 5 hours a day is a long time to be in class, I'm grateful that she clearly loves teaching and wants to get to know us as individuals.

3. All the sweets.  Everything here is sweet and it's great.  There is nothing more comforting than warm sweet bread, or cafe con leche, or dulce de leche with anything.

4.  The coffee.  I was so afraid that they wouldn't drink it here or that is would suck, but they do drink it, it's very popular, and it's the best coffee I've ever had.  Sorry Starbucks.

5.  The pace of life here.  Everything is centered around relationships.  The house is not clean?  That's okay, because I had a really good time talking and drinking tea with my friend today.  Relationships will ALWAYS be more important here than getting things done.  To-do lists don't seem to exist, and if they do, they are very flexible.  People always come first.  I love it.

6. The simplicity of life.  Most people do not have cars here, let alone a bunch of other gadgets to make life more complex.  They have the bare necessities and other people.  That's all one really needs.

7. Panadarias- Bread shops.  Walk by one, smell the deliciousness, and try to not walk in and buy something.  I dare you to try.  It's almost impossible, but I force myself to do it every day.

8. Smart Cordobesas- The people here that actaully know their way around and will send you in the right direction.

9. The perritos- The puppies, EVERYWHERE.  In the streets, on the sidewalks, in the buildings, everywhere.  They are precious, and it makes me sad to see so many stray, wild dogs, but that's life here.  These people have enough money to feed and clothe themselves and their families, but maybe not enough to feed an animal as well.  Regardless, I'm thankful for their adorable faces and the ones that sometimes join me on my walk home from school.

10. The history of this place.  Cordoba, well parts of it, look like a city that was frozen in time hundreds of years ago.  It is gorgeous.  Old churches, parks, and beautifully detailed architecture capture the essence of what life here may have been like many years ago.

Now on a different subject, we have to get involved with a group here in Cordoba for my culture class.  I think I am going to try to find a church to get involved with, and prayers that I can find one would be greatly appreciated.  I think I would really benefit from meeting people here who will support me in my faith.  Although no church is ever perfect, I think there is so much truth to the fact that believers need times to be surrounded by other believers to lift them up, build them up, and get them spiritually ready to head back out into the world to hopefully lead others to Christ.  That's what I'm praying for -someone, or a group of people that can be that support for me during my time here. 
  




  

Woah...Paro

In Argentina, the word 'Paro' stands for strike, and it also is a conjugated form of a verb meaning to stop.  Today there was a Paro with the whole colectivo (AKA transportation system that everyone relies on).  MADNESS.  Imagine hundreds of thousands of people needing to get to school, work, home, appointments, ect, with no form of transportation except their own two feet.  This city is huge.  Your own two feet can get you far, but its going to take a while and probably start to hurt.  There are also taxis and remis (basically just green taxis that you can call ahead for), but they are significantly more expensive than the colectivo and today it was almost impossible to find an unoccupied one.


The strike began at 6pm yesterday and lasted for all of today.  I had no way to get to school, no idea in which direction to walk, and no one to ask for a ride.  Just about everyone else in Cordoba had the same problem.  I, luckily was able to hunt down a remi.  Mi abuela was so determined to find one, it was precious.  We were walking up and down all the streets for over a half hour before we finally found one.  Other people, however, were not as lucky and could not get to where they needed to be.  The collectivo system here controls everything.  When there is a Paro this city is chaos and that is exactly the point they are trying to make.  Even though the colectivo drivers get paid more than medics and professors and almost every other job, they still aren't content.  Today they had a problem with the safety of their job; who knows what it will be next time.  [You should hear mi mama and mi abuela go off about this; it's quite funny.]  Anyways, that pretty much described my day.  I got to school finally in a remi, was told the paro was over so I went to my colevtivo stop at the end of the day, it wasn't over, so after two hours of waiting at the stop I shared a taxi with a nice old lady and another girl.  The whole colectivo is a mystery to me, but this whole Paro just adds on another perplexing layer.


There are many things about this country and this city that I just don't understand and that make me laugh, so I am just going to go ahead and list them here.


1.  Colectivo-enough said about this.


2.  Cordobesas- If you ask a Cordobesa for directions, whether he/or she actually knows how to get there or not, they will tell you something and act like they know.  More than likely they had no idea, so after you've walked the 10 blocks they told you would get you to your destination, you realize the hard way that you are now more lost than you were before. (I learned the hard way, if you couldn't guess).


3. Platform shoes- Ladies please.  They aren't flattering on you or off you, and it's so painful to watch you try and walk.


4. Street Names- 9 de Julio, 27 de Abril, 27 de Mayo, Sol de Mayo,  Paraguay, Panama, Brasil, ect....this is why I'm always lost.


5. Driving- Don't worry about the street signs, or the pedestrians.  Drive as you please.  Even if you bump the person in front of you, that's okay.  No big deal here.  Just keep honking really loud at the pedestrians, so they can keep sprinting.


6. Public Restrooms- It's not a complete bring your own toilet paper gig, but close.  There is one roll on the wall when you walk in, and you better hope it actually has some, and you better hope you take enough.


7. Cell Phones- There are three different companies you can purchase a phone from- Claro, Movistar, or Personal.  However, each one of them have about 1000 different little stores throughout the city.  Whichever store you go into, is the wrong one to get an answer to the question you have.  They will ALWAYS send you to "that store that is down that way 6 blocks and then to the right another 3 blocks."  Yes, thank you very much for you're help.  I'll be sure to find that store right away.


8. "Cuadritos"- Another word for a smaller block. Often times someone will say that something is "four cuadritos away."  They are trying to say that it's four blocks, but the blocks are small, so you will be there fast.  LIE.  Mi abuela and I had a whole discussion on this.  "Cuadritos" do not exist.  People just use the word to make wherever you are going seem a bit easier to get to.


9. Policia- The police here really have me stumped.  Why do they stand in huddles of about 10, all with huge weapons, yet not one of them look like they are ready to save a life, or stop a robbery from happening, or even just help someone cross a street?  By what they are wearing they look so serious, but why how they act (or how little they act, I should say)  they just seem like a performance rather than the real thing.

10. Los chicos- The boys here.  Come on boys, whistling at me does not make me want to talk to you.  Calling me names makes me dislike you.  Talking about what I'm wearing ....like really I can hear you.  Walking up and winking at me, just no.  For my sake and your sake, no.  And let me be clear none of this has to do with me, or just happens to me.  This is the majority of the boys here and how they react to the majority of the girls. 


In all seriousness, I really am liking it here.  Everything mentioned above are simply things that I, as someone from the US have experienced that I just do not understand.  Every country and city has their own quirks.  It just feels good to name some of Cordoba's and laugh at the silliness of it all, and how different it is for me.  Now let's just hope this colectivo Paro ends so that I can get to school tomorrow.  Oh the uncertainty of this place...     

It's the little things..

So I survived my night at the boliche!  It was actually really fun, even though the whole time in the back of my head I was having anxiety about getting home.  However, it turned out fine (minus my taxi driver getting lost...I swear these things only happen to me).  My driver was super nice and he waited right outside my house until I was in my front door to leave.  I really appreciated that since that was the part that I feared the most.  He also gave me his taxi number so I can call if I ever need a ride.  He is one of the few taxi drivers that actually seem to enjoy life and communicating with people.  It was quite refreshing and I felt safe.


Yesterday, I slept through half the day since I got home so late from the boliche and then hung out with my family for a while.  In the afternoon, I met some friends at a big mall that is actually not too far from my house.  I took el colectivo there by myself, and of course nothing is ever easy with el colectivo.  When I got off at the bus stop, I still had to walk about 5 blocks to get to the mall, but it was daylight, there were lots of people, so I felt okay.  While at the mall, my friends and I got helado (ice cream).  There is no problem in this world that ice cream cannot solve...in my opinion.  It was great, and therapeutic to be with people who are also going through culture shock, also missing their homes, and also beginning to realize how long this whole semester is.  Even though we have all only known each other for a week, it feels like it has been for so much longer, because we just have a common bond.  Ice cream and people who get me...what more could I ask for after a super long week?


Today, I slept in again and then sat and had coffee, criollos, and dulce de luche with mi abuela.  Every single morning we eat bread, but the type of bread and the toppings for it can completely make or break the breakfast.  Therefore, this morning when I awoke to see criollos and dulce de leche on the table waiting for me, I knew it was going to be a good day.  If you have never had a criollo slightly toasted with dulce de leche, do it.  Now.  I am so serious.  You won't regret it.


After I ate, mi abuela asked if I wanted to go to the verdulia (vegetable shop) with her.  I of course said yes.  I love our little walks around the neighborhood to different stores.  I love our conversations.  I love that it makes me feel safe here.  I love that it makes me feel at home here.


Oh, and I also love all the fresh vegetables you can buy here right around the corner from your house.  So cool, and straight from the farm.


Now here is the big news...I WENT FOR A RUN TODAY.  Now you are probably wondering why this is big news.  For starters, I haven't ran since I've been here, and that is a long time to go without running for me (yet I must say that just by living in Cordoba, you walk...A LOT).  However, the big thing about this is that I went outside my house by myself, ran around the neighborhood by myself, came back by myself, opened the gate by myself, and tried to enjoy every second of it. Now I didn't go far, because I would have gotten lost, but it was so good for me to force myself to do something like that.  I cannot hibernate here.  I have to live, and living for me means going on runs and enjoying them.


After my run, I ate lunch with mi abuela (which was amazing, I really need to start learning how to make this stuff).  It was lots of fresh veggies (that we bought that morning), steak, and potatoes all in one pot with eggs on top.  It was fabulous.  Then, we went to the apartment of the sister of mi abuela.  The three of us sat and talked forever.  Mi abuela's sister wants to set me up with her nephew (I'll think about it) and she really wants me to be a part of the family- attend every gathering, get to know everyone, and feel at home here.  I really appreciated the conversation with her, and she continually complemented me on my Spanish.  It was an afternoon full of encouragement and reinforcement that I am here, I should be here, and I am growing while being here.


And another thing- my sister, Meghan is blogging at http://imhomeschooling.blogspot.com.ar/ and I just read her post from yesterday and was so encouraged by her faith.  She has been continually making discoveries and taking huge strides in her faith, and I am constantly inspired and encouraged by her.  She is someone who truly sees God at work in the little things, like seashells (I will never forget that, Meghan!), and her faith just really inspired me to see the little things that are happening here and equate them to the big things God is capable of.  So I decided to think about all of the little things that have added up to making me feel affirmed.  As I sat to reflect, it occurred to me what my devotional said on the date that I left for Argentina- "He (God) bought you, owns you, and protects you.  God paid too high a price to leave you unguarded."  If that is not a little (big) thing then I don't know what is.  I am sure that all of these little signs were carefully crafted by my creator to lift my spirits and remind me of His presence, power, and ability to do some very big things.        

Things are looking up

Since being robbed, I have been feeling all sorts of crazy emotions.  When I wake up in the morning and see the sun shining brightly, hear the children laughing, and smell the bread toasting in the kitchen downstairs, I feel safe, happy, and like I can take on the next 5 months.  However, when it begins to get dark outside I start feeling nervous, scared, and like I just want to go to bed to get the dark night hours over with.  The dark makes me think about what happened, makes me picture the two men riding up on the motorcycle and makes me miss my home in the suburbs like crazy. 


Today, I was able to sleep in (no class on Fridays here...WAHOO!!!), so I woke up around 9 and got out my computer to check my email and such.  Right now my computer is my only form of communication with everyone so you can probably imagine my dismay when I logged on to find out that my wifi was not working.  I did not even have any connection options available.  Being the tech genius that I am, I just kept restarting my computer.  I was so confused, frustrated, and just feeling bad for myself.


While I was struggling desperately to figure out my computer mi abuela came into my room and asked if I wanted to walk to the store with her.  I said yes, and I am so glad that I did.  Who knew there was a huge (and I mean HUGE) shopping center right around the corner from my house?  Not me.  As we were walking, I watched all of the people outside playing, drinking mate, and going for walks, and I just realized that this is not a bad, scary place.  I had a crappy experience, but that is rare.  Families live here, children are raised here, my sweet little abuela walks to the grocery store here.  This is not a place to be afraid of.


After our walk to the store, mi abuela accompanied me to el centro where I had to meet the other students and our program director to get our visas.  Then, mi abuela and I walked around el centro for a while and again I had the same thoughts.  This place, this city, this home to many is beautiful despite the rare, horrible incident that happened to me.  I just have to remember that what I experienced is not the norm and what I saw on my walks is the norm.


I also loved that I got to spend quality time with mi abuela.  She makes me feel at home here, and loved, and cared for.  She helped me look at maps to get oriented with the city and even wrote down important street names for me.  She is my little piece of comfort and I don't know what I would do without her.  On another bright note, my wonderfully intelligent sister, Abby, figured out what was wrong with my computer.  I accidentally pushed a key that turned the wireless off.  Classic.  I pressed one button and problem solved.  


Tonight, I am conquering my fear of being outside in the dark.  I am going to meet my speaking partner, Florencia for dinner (yes we eat dinner at 10pm here) and then we are going to a boliche to dance.  I am excited and I am terrified.  Mi abuela is walking me to the bus stop, I am taking the bus by myself, and then meeting Florencia in el centro.  I am not afraid of any of that.  What I am afraid of is when I arrive at my house and have to walk up to the gate and think about what happened.  But I am going to conquer this and it is going to happen now, because if it doesn't I will live in fear for the next 5 months, and I cannot handle that.  So here goes...I'll be praying the whole time.   

and I will call upon Your name

Have you heard the song Oceans by Hillsong United?  If you haven't, you should listen to it.  It's on replay for me right now.

About three hours ago I was robbed.  I was walking home from the mall and had finally arrived at my house.  Here in Cordoba, each house has a large gate in front of it.  Behind the gate there is a very short walkway that leads to the front door.  Everyone here has a key to their gate and a key to their house.  Myself included.  When I reached my house, I opened the gate, and immediately turned around to shut it and lock it with my key.  As I was fiddling with my keys in my hand to get the right one to lock the gate, a motorcycle pulled up directly in front of me.  At first I wondered if the two men on the motorcycle were friends of my host family.  That thought passed quickly as the men got off of their motorcycle and began to push open the gate that I was trying to lock it.  I fought as much as I could and yelled "No, no, no, dejame sola (leave me alone), NOOOO" but they were quickly able to out push me and opened the gate.  I turned and ran with all of my might towards the front door of my house, but it was locked.  I knew I was done; the had me cornered.  They immediately grabbed me, took my purse threw me on the ground, and left.  This all happened within about 15 seconds.  I laid on the ground screaming and crying as my host family (and every other person who lives on my street) ran outside to me.

They took everything.  In my purse was my iphone (and only means of taking pictures), the phone that I bought yesterday to use while here, my debit card, credit card, license, health insurance cards, my universitario id, my favorite chapstick, some pesos, travelers visa, bus card and whatever else was in there.  I feel invaded.  I know I am okay, and I am so grateful for that, but I feel like someone took parts of me that I wish I had back.  The money doesn't matter to me, and the cards have all been cancelled as well as the phones, but I just feel sad that someone felt the need to go to that extreme.   I feel sad, and I feel scared that this horrible experience will hinder me from living and exploring as much as possible while here.

As I was talking to my sister after I had calmed down and was able to breathe, she told me shes been listening to the song Oceans by Hillsong United.  I have heard this song 10057435801374560134 times before (approximately), but in that moment I needed the reminder of exactly who is watching over me.

Should I maybe be more cautious?  Yes, absolutely.  But do I need to feel scared? No, not at all.  I've got the best police officer, fire fighter, navy seal, army general, know-all papa looking out for me and loving me all the time.  And the crazy thing is that He's also loving the two men who robbed me.  He's so kind-hearted, gracious, pure, and perfect that He can love even those who we find almost impossible to love.  In an odd sort of way I find comfort in the fact that maybe God knew that those men needed my 40 pesos (about $5) in order to survive or feed their families.  Maybe that money and the rides left on my bus card went to exactly who they needed to go to.  Maybe, just maybe, I can find some love for those men.  I just hope that no one else has to experience what I did, because it does leave one with the vulnerable feeling that your personal space has been penetrated.  That feeling is uncomfortable, but I am grateful that I need not fear.  I can be at rest in the comfort of knowing that "You've never failed and You won't start now" (Oceans).

          

So much to be proud of.

I'm just going to go ahead and talk about it, because I know how excited my family and friends were that I was going to be here in Argentina for the world cup.  The atmosphere here was amazing.  I was in 'el centro' (which is basically the equivalent of what Times Square is to New York City) yesterday for a while up until about an hour before the game started.  It was packed.  People from every part of Cordoba came to set up their watching space in the middle of the city.  The game was broadcasted live on a huge screen that was positioned against one of the tallest buildings.  Their hate song about Brazil was playing loudly, people were cheering, smells of empanadas and carne permeated through the streets, hundreds of police congregated to prepare themselves, and Messi jerseys were sold on every street corner.  It was world cup time and these people were serious. 

With it being only my second day in the city I decided to return to my house to watch the game with mi familia.  They had their friend over and we sat and drank mate and cafe while we cheered and screamed and maybe even cried a bit (when Germany scored).  I can't even put into words how unbelievably wonderful it was to be here and be amongst the immense passion and love these people have for their team. It was an unforgettable experience, but the best part of it is happening now.  The best part is that even though Argentina lost, the pride that they have for their team and more importantly their country seems to have only grown in the past twenty-four hours.  Numerous Cordobeses have said that they are very proud of their team and are proud to be from Argentina.  One would think it might take a while for the sting to wear off in order for them to be able to say that, but here in Argentina, the insenity of the love for their nation is unbreakable and that is simply amazing.

Here are some pictures I took in 'el centro' before the game.

On a different note, today I went to the university where I will be taking classes.  It was a miracle that I arrived, even though I arrived late.  Wonderful way to meet professors.  'El colectivo' which is the system of public transportation is, to quote the director of my program, 'un misterio y un problema' (a mystery and and problem).  This is due to the fact that there is a set schedule for 'el colectivo' but in reality it runs on its own schedule.  If the schedule says it will come at 8:50am, it might.  Or it might come at 9:00 or 9:05 or 9:10 or 9:15 or it might just come and drive right past you because it doesn't feel like stopping.  No one here completely understands 'el colectivo' and I have had multiple people tell me that they often get lost, miss their bus, or arrive late.  With all that said, of course my colectivo came late this morning which in turn means I arrived late to take my placement exam.  Thank goodness they had not begun yet because other students were also not there yet due to problems with the unpredictable colectivo.

Anyways, I took the written and oral placement exams and then went to 'el comedor' for lunch with the other students.  It has been really good getting to know them and I love that we use Spanish all the time.  We text in Spanish, we call in Spanish, we talk in Spanish...I'm beginning to think about everything in Spanish and struggle with English.  It's great. 

After lunch, a big group of us walked into 'el centro' because we all needed to buy things like cell phones, colectivo cards, notebooks, ect.  We did all of that and then went to a cafe to tomar cerveza (if you don't know what that is, just look it up...sorry mom).  It was fun to be in 'el centro' during the day because there were so many people and little vendors everywhere.  I love the life of this city and how vibrant it seems all the time.

Soon we all went back to our houses because we were tired and it was hot.  Winter here equals anywhere from 50-60 degrees and on a super cold day maybe 40 degrees.  For some that is summer.  For us United Statesians, it's pretty much spring time, like jeans and a light jacket.  For mi mama and mi abuela, it's time for scarves, winter coats and boots.  Therefore, when I walked downstairs this morning with just a sweater on, they made me put on more clothes and a scarf so that I wouldn't be cold.  When all the other students and I were talking, I learned that all of their host families made them do the same.  So there we were, a bunch of United Statesians sweating like crazy in 60 degree weather wearing our winter attire.  That's going to take some getting used to.

Anyways, when I arrived back home, I sat and had mate with mi abuela and we talked and watched NCIS (en espanol of course).  I am really beginning to appreciate that time everyday.  Typically at around 5 or 6pm we sit and have tea or cafe, and talk and talk and talk.  It's such a great, intentional, therapeutic way to wind down towards the end of the day.  And then, just like every other family in Argentina, we ate dinner around 9pm.        

     

I might like it here.

After two days of traveling, two long plane rides, one super long layover, my first experience at a hostel, seeing the beauty of Panama City, going through customs over and over again, and being more tired than I ever thought I could be, I have finally arrived in Cordoba.  However, the feeling of relief did not last long.  Once I finished up with customs at the airport I headed for the exit assuming I would immediately be greeted by my host family.  No such luck.  I was stuck at the airport by myself at 2am with all of my luggage and a phone with 3% battery left (lesson learned: make sure I have life left in my phone in times like these).  I quickly went into my contacts and wrote down my host mother's phone number before my phone died in hopes that it would be of help if I found a phone I could use.  It was!!!!  Two super nice girls, also from the United States came up to me and asked who I was/what I was doing/who I was waiting for.  I explained to them that I had just arrived and was waiting for my host family.  As it turns out, they were as well!  These two girls are doing a different program than I am and are only staying for a month, but they were still in the same position as I was, and they made me feel so much better. 

One member of one of the girl's host family arrived to pick her up.  His name was Manuel; however, I soon named him 'mi salvador' because he did just that, he saved me from being lost in a foreign city for a night.  Manuel insisted that I call my host mother on his phone.  I did, and as it turns out my host mother thought I was arriving at the airport in the pm not the am.  I think I made a mistake on a paper I had to fill out and I most likely put pm rather than am. Ooops.  Great way to start, right?  Anyways, my host mother was super forgiving and worried about how I could get to her house.  She doesn't have a car and she said it would take her a while to get there by bus, so we decided that I should take a taxi.  As she was giving me the very, very, very specific directions that I was supposed to pass on to the taxi driver, Manuel asked for the address.  When I told him. he insisted that he take me home because it was kind of close to his house.  And air-go me declaring Manuel 'mi slavador."  Gracias Manuel, gracias.

 So I arrived at my host family's house at just before 3:00 in the morning.  I felt so bad, but mi mama, Florencia assured me it was fine, and she was very welcoming and loving.  First adventure over with and I had not even been in the city an hour.

Today, mi mama and mi abuela spent the day talking and getting to know each other. At around 5pm they had some friends over, and I began to feel overwhelmed.  Trying to listen to one Cordobesa talk and actually understand what they are saying is hard enough, but when there are five of them and they are all talking at the same time, not to mention at a pace that is unbelievably fast, I was done.  I started to wonder what in the world I'm doing here.  The Spanish they speak here is so different and half the time I know I look like a little lost puppy trying to find a home.  I was beginning to feel clueless, helpless, and even just sad for myself.  But then I forced myself to get out of the funk.

As I was sitting there at a table full of beautiful people who truly value relationships, knowledge, and the culture they come from, I realized how blessed I am to be able to be a part of this for a short period of time.  Is it hard?  Of course.  But I decided to do this because I love the language, I love the culture, and most of all because I love people, and having the ability to speak a second language is such an asset when building relationships with people from different backgrounds.  Therefore, the sense of helplessness quickly turned into overwhelming joy and that validated why I am here and more importantly that I should be here.

For the rest of the night we sat and talked, and I focused on key words and chimed in when possible.  These new friends were not looking for me to speak flawlessly or even for me to say something every second.  They were simply enjoying the presence of me as I was them.  We come from completely different places, completely different families, completely different cultures, completely different backgrounds, but what brought us together was the language.  Though I am far from perfect at it, that was all the validation I needed to keep on keeping on.      

I can't believe it

I leave tomorrow.  I'm freaking out. But not for the reasons one would assume.  I'm freaking out because I am so unusually calm about this.  I have had friends and family members cry saying goodbye to me, and I just stand there, and rather than feeling the sadness they seem to be feeling, I feel fine.  I feel weirdly, oddly, extremely unusually fine and seemingly not bothered by the fact that I will be leaving this place for six whole months.  I know it's happening, but I don't think it will be truly validated until I am there and getting acquainted in my new home, with my new family, speaking a new language, in a new country.  I think maybe when the realization of the length of this journey resonates with me, as well as when I feel the first tinges of missing people from home, I will have that break-down moment.  That 'cry until you can't anymore, look at old pictures, read old letters, sob your heart out' moment of utter pain and realization.  I hope that I feel those emotions at some point.  I hope that they are strong and true and that I can let them be present for enough time to feel the capacity and depth of them, and then let them go.  I have to let those emotions go, because if I don't they will hold me back from being present in Argentina and from living in the moment while there.  I also must let those emotions go because they are only a part of how I'm sure I will be feeling at that point in time.  I know for a fact that I will remain excited and willing to learn (mistakes included, of course).

As for now, I remain undisturbed, as I pack my life away into 2 suitcases and 1 backpack.  Now let me preface this by saying I HATE PACKING.  Like hate it.  Like I would rather being doing almost anything else.  I either pack too much, too little, or just forget something very important.  Therefore, this was a process, and being done now with both suitcases weighing in at just under the weights the plane allows, is an accomplishment.  And now, I sit back, relax, put my feet up, and begin to think of the things that I forgot to pack.

And there they are - my friends for the next two days as I travel to Argentina (notice the backpack is still open because I am shoving everything I've forgotten into it!)

Well here I go!  Tonight I will say the rest of my goodbyes and tomorrow morning I will head to Newark, New Jersey.  From there I will fly to Panama City, Panama, and then I will fly to Córdoba, Argentina...my new home and 'el gran desconocido'!