Ella (pronounced Eja) es con garcon

My titles are usually just things that I think I've heard. They don't make any sense.

Sherry and I have been uber productive lately. We spent the weekend exploring the different neighborhoods in Bs As. We went to Recoleta (the rich part), Belgrano (the boring part), San Telmo (the antique and pretty part) and La Boca (the poor part that was also extremely touristy). We have seen the tango dancers and the fairs and we have met some interesting people.

There is one particular story that cracks me up, so I have to tell it:

We took the bus to San Telmo-- hoping it would actually take us to La Boca-- and asked some street vendor for directions to La Boca. He told us that it was about 20 blocks to the left. We thought that 20 blocks sounded walkable. But, let me tell you, it is not! On our way (maybe 4 blocks from San Telmo plaza, we met an old man. The old man had two cane-like contraptions that hooked onto his forearms and had mangled or kinda useless feet.... club feet?? I'm not sure. He saw us crossing the street and thought that we needed help getting somewhere. He walked up, and in Spanish, said " blah blah blah blah La Boca blah blah" and we responded, " Si, La Boca!" He continued rambling. We said that we hardly spoke Spanish. He didn't care. We managed to understand that he wanted us to come with him. He pointed to his necklace, which had a pendant with Mary's face, and shouted something about being good. Then he reached into his shirt and pulled out another necklace that had a rather large metal Turtle on it. He then shouted something about being crazy? Then he insisted that we listen to him and follow him. So we did. He was old, and loud, but still old and mamed. What was he gonna do? Throw a cane at our faces?

We made our way to a bus stop which was really only 2 feet away...so, "made our way" is an exaggeration. We got on the bus and the man said something to the driver that ended in "las ninas." The old man took out some change and handed it to Sherry so that she could pay the fare for the three of us. Then she gave him some pesos in paper form.

On the way to La Boca, which is where we assumed we were going, the man never shut up. He told us that he had had a revelation when he was 12 and had seen Jesus--or some other person with brown hair-- and that he became good. He also said he was crazy and that he liked to help lost people because he was from the city and he was spiritual. I am sure that at one point he also insisted that he was the devil or possessed. He made horn signs with his hands and grunted and snarled. Everyone on the bus stared at the three of us like we were crazy. Sherry and I just tried to understand what he was saying. Thank god we got to La Boca. I thought that I was being kidnapped.

On Monday, we went to this Independent Media meeting to see what they did and talk about volunteering. The meeting was at a hotel downtown called the Bauen Hotel. The hotel stopped running after the economic collapse in Argentina in 2001, but the workers, who needed jobs, got together and formed cooperatives (Collectivos de trabajo). Many things in Bs As are run by workers. This also means that their meeting spaces are free for non-profit use. The organization that we met with is one of the many groups that meet there.

The meeting was great. It ended up being 3.5 hours of documentary film making lessons in Spanish. The group was made up of many different organizations who are learning to make films. It is really a great workshop (taller- just learned that word). We introduced ourselves in English, our new friend translated, and we sipped matte and talked about the importance of new media for conveying information about the social and political problems in Argentina to the world. This is the project that we will be working on, so if anyone has any information on new media...even the most basic...please email me. I am particularly interested in learning about streaming video and archiving video online.

Shit: Did you know the average salary here is about 600-700 pesos??? That is about 200- 230 dollars. I feel like I'm robbing these poor people.

After the meeting, the other members did not hesitate, and did not care that our Spanish was crap, to come up to us and speak away. They just rambled and asked us political questions and our responses were strange pigeon Spanish. I'll be honest, I am amazed that I can say anything at all! Or, that I even understand. I have gotten really good at waving my hand over head to say "that is over my head"-- they seem to get that.

Today, Sherry and I decided to relax. Yesterday was really exciting. --I forgot to mention that we even signed up for Spanish class. We start on Wednesday. -- So, in honor of our proactive-ness, we decided to do work from home and laundry and all of that great stuff. Maybe even go to get a pedicure. Unfortunately, our landlord, who also happens to be a tango instructor, came by with the maid. We decided to run away and do some errands. We stopped by the nearest spa for some feet and nail treatment. WARNING. It took 2 hours!!! And, the women love to talk! I spent to hours with a lady, who was picking my feet while I layed on a bed, talking about American politics in Espanol! Sherry is very lucky. She understands more than I do because of her Italian. She also speaks Italian sometimes, which I can't really tell because the Argentinean accent sounds like Italian.

Boy, those Spanish lessons are really going to come in handy.

So, that is about it for now. I have a wonderful series of photos from Evita's grave featuring my new friend and doll, Pancha Villa (which also apparently means hotdog). Stay tuned.