A little country. A little rock and roll.

If only I could fly to Glasgow to see these guys play with Iron and Wine. Yum.
Check out this video: Bon Iver "The Wolves (Act I and II)"



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We Are All In This Together (thanks Ben Lee)

My plans to go to the Greek New Year celebration came to a screeching halt when my friend Kristi called me and asked me when we should meet at my house to go to the show. I wracked my brain and was drawing a blank. What show? Aha! The Ben Folds show that I committed to going to weeks prior and that had completely slipped off my radar.

We hightailed it down towards the Tacoma aroma, as the show was being held at University of Puget Sound. On our drive, we speculated what the crowd would be like. I postulated that it would be about 30% college kids who had never heard of Ben Folds and 70% burnout 30-something fans (I am including myself in this category). It was quite the inverse actually. We were ushered into the Field House and gazed upon the throngs of freshman happily jumping around to the bubble gum tunes of Ben Lee.

If I were a field-worker reporting on the social patterns of post-adolescent college students these would be my findings:

Yes, that right folks. People in college are still listening to Snoop Dogg at parties. They still are wearing birkenstocks. They still are assuming the vertical spooning position at shows whereby the male stands behind the female and wraps his arms around her waist protectively, coyly resting his chin on the top of her head. They still are sneaking illegal substances in backpacks. And they still are listening to and loving Ben Folds. Seems like not a day had gone by since the radio release of "Brick".

This experience came complete with an akward ex-boyfriend siting a la Kristi and one surprise musical guest, Moby. Wait. Moby, at UPS? What is wrong with this picture?

Apart from the supreme giddiness of the music, I was lifted by the teen spirit and at once felt like I had traveled back through time to my "glory days".

Recollections

Remember the days when I had long hair? I miss those days.
So, it has come to my attention that some of my friends are disappointed that I didn't blog about my fabulous trip to Mt. Bachelor and it's environs. HUGE OVERSIGHT. I apologize.

Oh, Mt. Bachelor let me count the ways I love thee. You gave me thigh-high fresh powder, glistening sunshiney days, glorious untracked terrain. I got so caught up in you that I literally needed a shovel to dig myself out. I never have known a mountain like you and I love that you are a challenge to me. I wish you were not so distant and difficult to reach. But you have set the bar for my future relationships with other mountains. I have no regrets.

Thank you to all my peeps in tow: Andreas, Joshua, Damon, Brent, Dustin, Briar, Abe and mostly to the Rinz for organizing this getaway.

And yes, I refuse to use the word "epic" in this text. In fact, I am boycotting that word.

My re-entry into America has been a fairly rocky one. One death of a friend, one unplanned pregnancy, one favorite cat who almost died while I was away...for starters. Maybe it's me being escapist but can I crawl back under the South American rock from whence I came?

Livin' La Vida de Buenos Aires

Not to be direly anticlimactic but today marks the last day of my trip. I have just returned from Buenos Aires after an overwhelmingly short stay there. Just a forewarning…this entry may error on the side of being long-winded. If you don’t like it…you can “suck it” as Sarah Rinzler so aptly says.

We arrived in BA on a Wednesday night and proceeded to catch a cab from the airport to the city center. There was a very peculiar odor in the air…smelled like a giant forest fire and Smokey the Bear. Everyone we asked pleaded ignorance. They would say to us…that’s how it usually smells. Our cab driver almost collided with the gate at the toll booth. I about shat my pants. The drivers here…are, uh, aggressive to put it nicely.

We had made plans to stay at Shannon’s friend Paul’s place and he told us beforehand to bring our sleeping bags. So we did. We arrived at his place on Valentin Gomez at about 11:30PM. We rang the buzzer. No answer. Rang it again. No answer. A kindly man came along and made gesture to enter the building and Shannon told him that we were trying to get a hold of the white guy who lives here in Apt.6. He skeptically let us in and we went upstairs with him. We knocked on Paul’s door. No answer. Meanwhile, I had dropped my bag in the garbage-staging area and was sitting on it. The guy who let us in came out from his apartment with his little beagle. He looked at us with increased skepticism but also with sorrow. We must have been the most desperate looking ladies. So, here Shannon goes making friends again and before we knew it we were in their apartment having coffee with complete strangers. Their names were Carlos and Maria Carmen and they had two teenage daughters who were plucking away at their instant messenger the whole time we were there. They were so kind and excited to tell us all about BA. Paul finally arrived and apologized as he thought we were set to arrive much later.

Paul is entirely lovable but about as quirky as they come. He is a Brit ex-pat who teaches English all over South America. His place is very old but also very nice. Since he had only been there a month, he had acquired no furniture. Hence, Shannon and I rolled out our sleeping bags and slept on the wood floor. The whole time I was there I think I averaged about 3 hours of sleep a night. The urban camping was still amusing though. Even in my final zombie state I had no qualms about sleeping on the floor because I loved the city that much that I wanted to stay there indefinitely. Sleeping on a wood floor.

We were extremely pleased to find that we had coasted into town at the very start of the BA Int’l Film Festival called “BAFICIL”. As all of us are lovers of indie cinema, we elected to see an American documentery called “The Reinactors”. I HIGHLY recommend it. Especially if you want to see Superman smokin’ the grass. I loved the Q&A with the director following the film. He had a personality that I imagine as a cross between Ben Exworthy and Quentin Tarantino. We laughed our hineys off.

Okay. I am getting off the narrative train because I will never finish this entry if I don’t. Here is a list of either places that I went or experiences that I had in no particular order of chronology or importance. If you are so inclined, you can ask me about them individually and I will tell you. With vehement joy and love for this beautiful city.

Palermo Viejo
Mercado de las Pulgas
Hammer pants
McDonald’s Kosher
Soap on a stick
Estilo de Buenos Aires
Clowns
Surfin’ the Subte
San Telmo
Bar Living
80’s MTV Videos
Pirate Bar
“La Bomba Laura”
Tigre (the river delta, not the band)
Recoleta
Freddy Krueger
Bombillos
Mausoleum filled with cats
Street performers
6AM
Lollo
“Zhuzching”
Octavio Caesar
No Monedas

The list, the list. I could go on. There are many discoveries and/or epiphanies I had on my trip to BA, some of which are: #1:Someone needs to make a reality series called “Ricky Martin’s Gay Vacation”. #2: I need to start a blog where I capture and make commentary on the styles of international cities. #3: Shoe shopping is the new treasure hunting. #4: when I return to Seattle, I want to learn how to speak Spanish. Not Spanglish or a collection of idioms, but SPANISH. #5: I want to learn how to sail. Being on the water is where I feel most at home.

Last night after I had recovered from my sleep deprivation, we went to eat in a neighborhood of Santiago that is on the backside of Santa Lucia. It was the best food I have had since I arrived. In the midst of eating, I scurried after a father/son drummer duo to shoot a film. Hopefully, I can get some of these films up on YouTube. Here you go.




Don’t cry for me Argentina. I will come back to you someday. In the meantime, Mama I’m comin’ home.

Many thanks to Shannon, Amy, Patrice, Maria Paz, the concierge at Costa de Lyon, Mario & Friends, Paul, Mauricio (for his fly dance moves), to my co-workers for holdin’ down the fort during my absence and to Tara and Joshua for tag-teaming the care and maintenance of my grey sassy old lady of a dog, Willow.

Besos Y abrazos,

LB

Progress

As I was lolligagging around Providencia yesterday, Shannon called me on my hand-me-down cell phone and told me that they needed my help at work. They are in the process of recording instructional DVD'S to help non-english speaking teachers teach english. Shannon asked me to come down because they needed another native english speaker to record their voice on a DVD. The only problem was the voice was that of a 10 yr. old. Naomes...your voiceover work inspired me and I jumped on the metro and made my way over to Universidad de Sant Tomas. I was fetched by someone and taken down into the depths of the building. There I sat around a table with Shannon, Patchy and friends and read lines from a script.

After work, Paichy and Shannon took me to do my first touristy thing. We went through La Moneda where the Chilean president, Michelle Bachelet, resides. They are very serious there. In fact for all the partying Chileans do, they have an impressively austere infrastructure. A distinctly female presence is felt within the Moneda and many of the security guards are females. And their uniforms are HOT. I, of course, got in trouble for putting my hand in the fountain. You can't take me anywhere without getting in a little trouble. This picture of me and Shannon definitely is indicative of my mood, however. I am not even joking when I say that I have a rash on my face from people kissing me on the cheeks when they meet me. Just a little contact dermatitis is all. But it itches like crazy and I yearn for all my dermatological goodies back home.

Today we leave at 7:30 PM for Buenos Aires and from the way people make it sound, we are in for a rockin' good time.

Valpo

Before I left for Valpo, I was watching some Chilean hipsters film a music video by the pool. There was actually a guy wearing a purple scrunchy. Apparently Chile did not receive the memo that scrunchies are no longer acceptable coiffure attire. The youth culture here cracks me up. They have a whole group of kids called "pokemonos" that are probably much like you would imagine them. Colorful, androgyneous and a little provocative. They like to hang out in the park and make out with each other. In fact, Chileans are no strangers to public displays of affection. On the subway, in the elevator, in the restaurants...people here like to make sure that everyone knows who their girlfriend/boyfriend is. Also, as many of my friends know I am a HUGE advocate for the fanny pack. They are very popular and prolific here. I have yet to buy one, but it might be a good investment seeing as petty crime is about as common as palta (avocados) here. We got to Valpo in the evening and picked up some wine and I also bought a 40 oz. of "Becker" cerveza. We were all starving so Shannon (who studied here in college) took me to the most famous restaurant to get "chorillana" which is a typical Chilean dish. For starters, Jota Cruz takes kitsch to an entirely different level. Everyone leaves notes, pictures, knick knacks and what-have-yous all over the restaurant. They serve the chorillana on one big dish and you eat it family style. It is a plate of the most delicious french fries topped with eggs, onions, cheese and meat. It is similar to moco loco but perhaps the best hangover cure I have yet to come across. We made the trek up about 1000 stairs to get to Mario's for the asado (BBQ).
In Valparaiso, the city sits on steep hills and the streets are all cobblestone. It is a very famous destination for New Year's where they set off a massive display of fireworks. It is like any port town, but some of the architecure is beautiful. The people that live here are referred to as "portenos" because of their residence in a port city. Notoriously, they have beautiful legs from all the hills, steps and maneuvering they have to do to get home or anywhere else for that matter. This city is also full of stray dogs which I have to fight the urge to want to cuddle with. The asado started late and included as much meat as any one person could eat in a sitting. I think that being surrounded by Chileans has been good for my Spanish. I learned two phrases while in Valpo that I will never forget. The first one is "saca la chucha" which means to fall on your ass which is quite possible considering the dangerous combination of terrain and number of piscolas consumed. My other favorite phrase is "mete la pata" which is to stick your foot in your mouth. We capped the night off at a nearby hostel that is owned by a friend of Mario's where we had a dance party to kick-ass oldies like "Kung Fu Fighting". The night ended at about 4am which by Chilean standards is early. The next day, Mario took us around the city. We rode the ascensors (elevators) and went down to the Pier where Patrick (a gringo from Colorado) had his backpack stolen as we were having some beers. It was the most inconspicuous lift I have ever seen. In fact, I never even saw the kid come up to the table. This is the second time in 2 weeks that this poor guy has been robbed. We headed back to Santiago around 8pm and today I had lunch at a delicious vegetarian restaurant with Amy (who leaves in t-minus 1 hour). The next couple days are down time before our trip to Buenos Aires. I can't wait. Oye, huevon!

Adjustments

I have to admit, after two days of airplane travel I got a little overzealous yesterday and while diving into the pool I jacked up my neck. There's nothing like being in a foreign country and trying to find a medical professional to cure your ails. I knew in my heart that I just needed a good snap, crackle, pop to get me going again. I looked up chiropractic doctors online and was dismayed when I found none. Shannon hooked it up. It's all about connections here in Santiago apparently. We went one stop on the metro to see an American chiropractor who totally got me back on track. She's from Portland and we laughed about all the funny things about Chileans and she told me all about living here. Aside from the whole healing part, it was a educational experience, even for Shannon who looked on in awe. We spent the afternoon on the terrace, me high on valerian and Shannon trying to make plans for our social outting tonight. Me, Shannon and Amy (this awesome gringa that lives here and leaves on Sunday) drank beers and ate cheese. Now it's time to get fancy and go out to "Subterraneo", a hip hop club that is nearby. More on that one tomorrow...before I make my way to Valpo with Shannon and Maria Paz. Le quiero a todos! Ciao!

Bien Venido!

So, the place I am staying in Santiago is about 200 square feet and everything is miniature...the fridge, the toilet, the stove. But thankfully, the bed is of normal size and I slept like a rock my first night here. In fact, I awakened when Shannon got up to go to work and then drifted off again till noonish. I pulled myself out of bed and went out on the balcony. The apartamento is tiny but the view is huge.





This is the view from Shannon's balcony. It looks out to San Cristobal which we are going to hike up tomorrow. You can see the pollution which gets worse as the day goes on. This city is surrounded by the Andes but I'll be damned if I could actually see them. Faintly, I think I could make out the silhouette of the range. I quickly put on my suit and headed up to the rooftop pool and veranda to get my sun on. It was gorgeous up there and I slathered myself with sunscreen and sat by the pool and red my book until Shannon got back.



While we walked around the "drugstore" neighborhood this afternoon I was trying too size up Chilean style. The men seem far better dressed than the women and the women were all sporting the same hairdo which Shannon calls the "Chilean" which if you imagine a cross between the "Rachel" and a mullet, that pretty much sums it up. My packing seemed to be inappropriate for the weather of course and I brought no flip flops to wear in the 80+ degree heat. Bummed. I went to Falabella to pick some up and came across an interesting display.




In America, we stuff our bras. In South America, the ladies stuff their booties. In fact, if any of my girlfriends with flat, bony booties back home want me to bring you something back from SA that will give you hours of entertainment and male attention...give me a shout out. I can hook you up with a pair of these. These anacondas don't want none unless you got buns hon.



Tomorrow after we hike San Cristobal we will be going to a "despedida" which is a going away party for one of the gringas that lives in Shannon's building and has been living here for the last 7 months. Next "webisode" people.