One week in

It has been a week since I arrived in Buenos Aires (mas o menos), and at times I just can't explain what life is like here. Right now I am picturing the stops of the Subte (short for subterreneo, I learned today), the entrances to stops varying in the colors red, blue, green, violet, and yellow.

The Subte is one of the things I associate most with this city. I feel that it highlights the similarities and differences of living in Buenos Aires versus, for example, places in the bay area. Like BART, the Subte is a convenient way of reaching one's destination, and the trains arrive often so missing one isn't a big deal. However, one difference in Argentine public transport is that schedules are much less standardized--if they even exist at all. When I ask people how often the Subte trains or colectivos run, I get a lackluster response--something along the lines of "they come when they come, and they come relatively often." Being American, I translate this to "they usually come within 15 minutes."

Today on the Subte, I found out another difference--In Argentina, people are less concerned about personal space on the public transit. For my first Spanish class, I took the Subte to The Plaza de Mayo, a major landmark in Buenos Aires that has a very important historical significance as the site of social movements, famous protests, massacres, speeches, and other significant events throughout the 20th century. The train was so packed that I had to muscle my way into a car. When you're standing in a place that is about the size of your body, it feels as if you're entirely made of elbows. Despite only having two, I felt I was nudging the 12 people crammed into about 4 square feet around me. I have not bought a backpack for school yet, so I looked ridiculous sporting my mom's old red Gregory pack, resting comfortably on the front of my body.

I should explain this. I will do so using one of my favorite professors' examples: that of the Martian social scientist (yet this case really has nothing to do with morality). If a Martian social scientist were to come down to Buenos Aires and observe the people here, he (it?) would probably think that backpacks were supposed to be worn on the front of one's body. He would probably observe the people on the Subte, take out his notebook, and return to his home planet with information supporting the hypothesis that backpacks are worn backwards.

Why do people do this? Because, as it turns out, people love to steal things here. Therefore, in order to keep their eyes on their things at all times (ojito!) people wear their backpacks backwards. Buenos Aires isn't just some magical land where backpacks are worn on the front because the people here think it's more stylish, capice?

Other observations: Starbucks exists here (of course) but apparently it is ridiculously expensive. Grocery stores owned by people of Chinese descent are called Chinos. Me and pretty much everyone in my program thinks this is rather racist and distasteful.

I told some people here I have a blog and I do not want to disappoint, so here is a comprehensive list of all the stupid things I have done while adjusting to living in this new city:
- I told my host family that my girlfriend is 12 years old.
- Two days later, I told my Spanish class that I was 12 years old.
- I locked my host family inside their own apartment (not outside, actually in their apartment so they could not leave for a whole day).
- I have been crapped on by pigeons twice (and am thus the all-time record holder in my group for most times shat on by pigeons within a day)
- I bought the cheapest phone I could find, and it broke two days later.

Lastly, I just got back from a Jazz club 7 blocks from my house. It was a bit expensive (90 pesos), but the wine was cheap (67 pesos). The music was fun, the wine was fantastic, and the overall experience was overpowering. I felt a part of Buenos Aires. Even if I was an obvious yankee, and the club was a bit high-class, my friend and I were having a legitimate Buenos Aires experience.

And the walk home wasn't too sketchy either!