Wearing My Patience Pants

I’ve worn these particular pants quite a bit since I’ve been here. But after this week and noticing multiple times I decided it was time to mention it. I have several pairs for several occasions (which is good because laundry is one washer for 2 floors and hang dry only) that I’ll explain.

I had to roll up my pants because it was so insanely hot that day by the lake!

The first is just rehearsal venting. My fellow dancers (or other thespians/musicians/etc.) or my friends that try to make plans with me understand that rehearsals are a long, unpredictable, and can often be painful and boring times. I’m used to that. This week’s schedule was a lot of rehearsal and not a lot of class because the shows are quickly approaching. I’ve been doing my best to take advantage of the down time but sometimes it just takes a lot of positive attitude and wearing of patience pants to get through.

More interestingly, another occasion for patience pants is queues. I prefer to refer to lines as this because it seems less annoying to wait in a queue for the loo or in this case for lunch than it does to wait in line and I’m trying to incorporate others’ fun vocabulary into my own. Anyway, I’ve noticed what is perhaps a difference in cultural expectations when it comes to these situations. Without pointing fingers, there seems to a nationality pattern to which of the other students “respect” the line of people waiting for lunch and follow in an “orderly” manner around the serving table, and which “take cuts” and don’t wait their turn or “randomly” walk up to the table/goes around “backward” and other behaviors of the like. I want to clarify that the words in quotes are because I’m guessing that the adjectives I’m using to describe their behavior is subjective to my expectations when it comes to how a queue works. It has taken a lot of self control when I’m tired and hungry to not get upset with people not acting the way I think they should. I just have to remind myself that no one is trying to ruffle my feathers on purpose and they probably think it’s silly to stand and wait for slow pokes when they are hungry and could just go around.

Thirdly, I’ve realized that some sign language/miming don’t translate. Unfortunately, I can only think of one example for you right now. When I understand what my Italian roommate is trying to communicate to me and I want to show her I agree, I’ve found I point first to myself and then hold up two fingers. Silly, “two” and “too” are not synonyms in Italian. She probably thinks I don’t understand and just smiles politely to avoid my further humiliation and her confusion.

Moment of the week:
Kelsey: “Gwen, your English has really improved!”
Gwen: “What’s ‘improved’?”
Precious 🙂

Now, this is the part where my friends, family and curious strangers should skip ahead to where it says RESUME if short on time (that is to say, the next few paragraphs are just nonsense, do not follow the blog assignment and is mostly a convenient way to tell a story to my friends).

*Catchy title that my dear Marissa (WOU roommate) would help me think of if we were together*
It all began on my very first day. I walked into the previously described, interesting bathroom here and tried to open the middle stall door.

Two open stalls and the locked one…

It was locked. I found this weird since I thought I was alone but just used a different one. Time passed and my roommates arrived and on the first morning we found out that both Gabi and I had heard the same weird banging noises in the middle of the night. They sounded like they were coming from the closet. This continued and it became a running joke that someone lived in our closet, or that there were body parts in there or ya know, whatever. Gabi also mentioned that she had heard footsteps several nights and had always assumed it was me coming in wearing squeaky sneakers. My sneakers do not squeak and I usually go to bed at the same time. I mostly ignored this since I hadn’t heard any squeaking.

I forget the exact order of events but as time went on and our joke progressed, it was decided that someone had moved into the mysterious middle stall and is living there which is why it’s always locked. Also, it is important to note that the idea of an alien in our closet was not completely rejected. In fact, the most likely explanation for all of this is that the middle bathroom stall and our wardrobes are actually vanishing cabinets (for those of you that are lost, that is a Harry Potter reference), this makes sense because we’ve yet to discover a more logical reason behind the noises and locked stall door. Besides, vanishing cabinets are logical.

Alright, 3 or 4 nights ago, I woke up in the middle of the night and heard a weird noise. The longer I listened the clearer the sound became and in a shiver, Gabi’s complaints came flooding back to me. The sneakers. Loud and clear there were footsteps in our room. I rolled over and no one was there. In a slight panic I rolled back over and tried desperately to fall asleep again, eventually the sound faded. I recounted the episode at breakfast and realized just how much it had spooked me. This wasn’t my typical it’s-dark-and-there-is-probably-a-boogie-man feeling it was a bit more of the nervous-someone-followed-me-home-at-night feeling supported by smart and sensible Gabi’s animated reaction to my finally having heard the squeaks. As I’m sure you’ve guessed, it was concluded that whoever lived in that middle stall was using the vanishing wardrobes and wandering around our room at inappropriate hours in inappropriate footwear. Two nights later I experienced the same thing and when I reported my hearings I was clarifying that the footsteps were nearer to Gabi’s bed than my own and having never discussed it before, Gabi agreed.

This has nothing to do with the story (she got her own sheets and was stuffing away the provided ones) but it shows the wardrobes and I find it interesting that some people believe the little white circle thing you see is an orb…a sign of a ghost…ooooo!

You all think I’m crazy. And paranoid. And just in case, I’d like to say this is mostly a joke causing good entertainment and making it much more interesting to be trapped inside this old, catholic, boy’s boarding school with no exposure to the outside world for many hours at a time.

One angle of the view outside the window on the boys floor. The building on the mid-right is a studio about 4 floors down.

RESUME

“Don’t blink”
The day had finally come! Our lakes and town bus tour of Austria! I’d looked forward to this since I first signed up for the program. Almost 40 people signed up for the all day excursion and we loaded a double decker bus and drove off at about 9am on 5 hours of sleep. This is the “don’t blink” part….being so tired my eye lids were heavy but the view was absolutely too spectacular to risk even blinking. I figured that the desire to glue my eye balls to the window would let up eventually and I could nap. Nope. The torturously beautiful mountains and lake was our backdrop all day long. I decided to bring the view home with me since it was pointed out that it would be hard to get one of the cute, live, ducks through customs. Scenery is obviously easier to fit in a suitcase. Anyway, the sun was shining! Our first day off when it wasn’t pouring! I even had a lovely red sun burn to prove it.
I think it will be easier to walk you through our day by pictures and captions.

This was my first glimpse of the scenery once off the bus. You can kind of see the lake and mountains and other dancers! We had about an hour here. It was incredibly hot and I bought an iced coffee and played on the swings and sat by the lake with the ducks!

Destination 2 and 3

Cont.

After a bit of a drive on the bus where our back ground started out as American pop music and slowly digressed to bad 90’s American pop music, we arrived at the second stop. I dangled my feet in the water while some friends swam and some took pictures! But the pictures simply don’t do the view justice!

Our third destination was lunch and city. We wandered a lot though the beautiful streets and buildings looking for food. We didn’t have the time for and didn’t want to pay for some of the tourist traps. Finally, hot and tired we got some food. This picture was more for the sake of “wow, look at the architecture and natural view behind lunch” but conveniently shows Gwen and Kelsey from the conversation above!

Destination 4. We didn’t actually get to stop here…

This picture was taken from the bus window as the rain that kept us from our 4th tour stop began to let up. It was so stormy so suddenly that we saw people in bikinis rushing around and boats filling with water and our bus began to leak. Those pictures didn’t really turn out. The lighting was amazing!

As compensation, we all got free cake and hot chocolate! It was fancy. Also at the cafe there was a cat and a happy atmosphere with content people having conversation with friends! It was a good way to end the trip!

This basically concludes Saturday’s adventure. It’s late and I need to rest up to get through week 4 including 4 performances! For more pictures, see Facebook within the week.

Until next time,

Emily

Bucking, Barbequing, and Bailando

Gaucho Party!

My journey started by crossing the Paraná River. I left the city of Rosario and crossed into the province conveniently named Entre Rios (Between Rivers) because two rivers form its borders. Swamp lands scattered with cows scrolled out the window of our private bus. We finally arrived at a ranch that sat at the top of a hill. It was so nice to get out of the city and breathe country air. I loved being able to see the horizon as my eyes stretched along the rolling hills. The horizon in Argentina is not painted by the beautiful Rocky Mountains like in the Pacific Northwest, but there was still a vast beauty the spread for miles around our peaceful spot on the hill.

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 We walked around taking pictures as we got settled. A group of us went over to two horses tied up on a fence. The dark one on the left had its ears down and seemed tense, so I left her alone and pet the pretty lady to the right.

Although we did have to sign waivers, this was to most unorganized horse riding I have ever heard of. There was only one person helping our whole group, so people that had never ridden before were on their own. I helped some people and I even adjusted someone’s stirrups. When a girl got on to that dark horse, it spun around anxiously taking her in a circle. Neither of them were comfortable and the girl asked to come down. The one worker helped her down, but then offered the horse to someone else like nothing happened. This time, a guy got on and the horse spun again, but he kept his composure as the ranch hand calmed the horse down. He continued to ride the dark horse around for a while, but you could tell who was boss (the horse). I waited for a while until all the people with jitters got worn out. The guy riding the dark horse did well, but was done quickly and asked if I wanted to relieve him. There was a taller horse I had my eye on because I am tall, but what this horse lacked in height she made up in attitude. I have only ridden horses a hand full of times and there was always someone guiding, but I remained confident from the beginning. I got the horse going with a simple kissing noise and a little nudge. Most people had to resort to kicking their horses to get them to even budge. Most of the horses were classic pony ride horses that are so calm they might as well be passed out.

ImageI was glad I got the dark diva.

For my first time riding solo, I felt like I handled everything as well as anyone could hope for. After a couple laps around the shed people were complementing me on how well I was doing. Mostly because I was actually moving I’m sure. I took my horse from guiding her walk to nudging her with a couple firm kisses up into a trot. Being at a steady brisk pace felt really nice. We couldn’t go far before we reached the small boundary we were limited to. Probably not a bad thing since they most of the horses didn’t go anyway. On the way back I opened up a little more encouraging her to “Giddy up”. We went from a trot into a steady canter before we slowed back down into a trot and then walked around a little more. I did as many laps as I could before it was finally time for lunch. I thanked the dark diva for an incredible ride. I had butterflies stirring, but I remand cool and confident.

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Our lunch cooking over hot coals.

For lunch we had amazing barbecue! We got to enjoy different cuts of meat that were all carefully prepared over the coals of an open fire. My personal favorite was the ribs. They were a little tough, but they were so flavorful I could take a small bite and work on it for a while and enjoy its rich flavor the whole time. Before we stuffed our faces with meat, our entre was a traditional food called “empanadas”. They are like mini calzones that can be filled with different kinds of food. The most common I have had are ham and cheese or beef and egg with green olives. They are very delicious and a great way to get your appetite going.

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My attempted dancing a traditional dance from Argentina.

After lunch, we enjoyed watching traditional Argentine Dance. This was not the tango born for the cities of Argentina, but the folk dance of the gauchos who were the cowboys in the country. I was under the impression the dancers were going to teach us, but right before intermission they said they were going to pick some people out of the crowd to dance. Of course, I got picked and did my best, but there was no instruction. I enjoyed trying to pick up the dance from a pretty little local girl. After the dance show, we got to eat some delicious dessert. We ate some traditional pastries like flan and another mass off yellow that looked like eggs because it was eggs mixed with sugar and lemon. After we enjoyed our dessert, we relaxed a little bit before our bus ride home.

Chau for now,

Cain

Vegetarian Life in France

As I prepared for my time abroad, I was filling out a questionnaire for my home stay placement when I came to the section inquiring about an dietary needs, including specifying a need for vegetarian and vegan diets. As a vegetarian, I became slightly worried that my request would make my placement more difficult because I knew beforehand that vegetarianism is much, much less common in France than in the United States. When I arrived in my home stay, my host family did seem surprised that I was a vegetarian, but my entire time here my home and school have worked hard to provide me with meals sans viande.

At home it is common for people to have meals without meat, and finding alternatives is rarely a problem, but if it were not directly addressed, it would be nearly impossible for me to eat lunch and dinner with my school and host family as EVERY lunch has meat and nearly every dinner has meat. And even regular meat eaters might be a little frightened by the duck pate served:

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In this picture you can see my alternative of tomato and melon. The chefs at the school seemed a little lost as to what could be suitable for the vegetarians in our program and this was most apparent with our packed lunches for our excursions. While most students received a tuna, egg, and tomato sandwich for lunch, there was one day in which the main part of my meal was two tomatoes and a melon slice. Quiche and cheese filled croissants were common for lunch, but to the relief of myself and my program coordinator, they have evolved from serving a green salad every meal . My host mother is wonderful at making our food without the meat or making something specifically for me, a great relief of my initial worry of its affect on my home stay. My experience with the food here made me want to look in to the life of a vegetarian in France (without all the assistance I received!)

What I discovered researching on the internet was incredibly interesting. A large population of France does not have much choice in becoming a vegetarian as it is law that schools, hospitals, retirement homes, and prisons are required to have animals products in all meals with meat at a specific frequency. I found the blog of a woman living in France with a young son who decided he wanted to become vegetarian. When she went to the school to discuss alternative foods, she was told that vegetarianism is not a recognized diet and it was required that they serve him meat, he would have to eat around it. I cannot even imagine trying to maintain a vegan diet, as what doesn’t have meat almost always has other animal products.

I decided to ask my professor how difficult it is to be a vegetarian in France, and she told me that it is nearly impossible. There is some meat (pork and poultry are very common!) in basically all foods. The school and families work hard to work with vegetarian foreign exchange students, but if they were not so vigilant, it would be very difficult to maintain a healthy and balanced diet as a vegetarian in France.

While there are a great many things I love about France, and as sad as my upcoming departure will be, I must admit that I am extremely excited to return to home where it is easy to maintain my vegetarian diet!

Maggie

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The Last Week

Hola,

Tomorrow is my last day in Barcelona – my last chance to see new things and re-visit favorite places. It’s weird to think that this might be my last day here ever. I’d like to come back someday, but I feel like the next time I get the opportunity to travel, I’d rather to somewhere I haven’t already been.

This week has been mostly about checking as many things off my to-do list as possible. I didn’t do everything I wanted to do, but I’m okay with that because it was a really long list. I kept adding stuff to it, more than I could really do in a month. But I did get to check a lot of things off! Like going back to the Cathedral and not getting turned away.

This week I’ve been trying to visit different neighborhoods. I like seeing the similarities and differences between them. For example, Poble Sec has pretty typical buildings and layout, but it’s unique because it has an old air raid shelter and it’s really into theater. I love how every neighborhood here has its own history, traditions, and personality.

Poble Sec

I have also been doing some souvenir shopping and getting gifts for my family and friends. I’m glad I left plenty of room in my suitcase. Earlier today I went shopping on La Rambla. I’ve been there before, but I didn’t get to have a good look around. There are a ton of booths down the street, mostly flowers, which is what the section I was on is famous for. There are also lots of little side streets with all kinds of stores.

A huge market just off La Rambla. Oh, and a Dunkin Doughnuts.

I also stumbled across a cool mural while I was exploring (getting lost in) La Rambla.

It’s of the Cathedral, I believe.

My internship is finished now. As much as I would have loved to just explore Barcelona all day, I did come to enjoy working at the clinic. I was the translator, receptionist, and tech support all in one. I feel like I was doing genuinely important and useful work, not making coffee or doing busywork. My boss, who is really nice, wrote me a letter of recommendation in addition to the WOU employer evaluation form, and she also gave me a gift basket of beauty supplies. The people who work there are so nice. I wish them the best.

I’ll be posting again tomorrow night with my thoughts on returning home. Hasta luego,

Cicely

There are TWO Minke Whales!!!

I finally got to see The Great Barrier Reef, and even better, I got to snorkel on it! I even swam with whales. I cannot tell you how amazing these last couple of days have been. The first thing we had to do was board a ship called SpoilSport, but once we were on it was well worth all of the traveling we had to do to get here. The first day was a bit rocky for some people because they spent the majority of the day sick and throwing up over the side. Yeah, it was not pretty for anyone, but the crew was absolutely amazing. Before we even got on the ship they knew our names and a little about us. We learned later that they had studied up on us before we came on. Each and every one of them took time out of their day to make sure the sick people were ok and the non sick people (5 out of 22) were entertained as well. We have been seriously pampered these last couple of days.

Once most of the throwing up was over, we got into the water for the first time and it was a life changing experience. Since I can remember I have always wanted to come to Australia and see The Great Barrier Reef. Well, I can now proudly say I have! The one complaint I have is that my camera does not do it justice. It is full of life that is so vibrant that it is hard to take it all in.

It was nasty and stormy on the top but once I stuck my head in I saw a different world. It was calm and quiet and there were so many different fish swimming around unaffected by us. Before this trip I had never snorkelled and I was a little unsure of myself but our group leader Nick took me out personally and swam me around and kept checking on me, I am truly grateful to him. Now, I am happy to say that if i get the chance I will be the first  to pull on a wet suite(no easy task!) and jump right in =)

Although my three days spent on The Great Barrier Reef was more than I could ever describe the best moment was easily getting to swim with Minke Whales. We got woken up at 6:30 AM the second day to our program director yelling, ” Goodmorning everyone, it is 6:30 and we have whales! We have two Minke Whales at the back of the boat!” Let me tell you, I have never gotten out of bed, into a swimsuit, a wetsuit and snorkel gear so fast. I was in the water by 6:36 and swimming with whales. I am actually pretty proud of myself for that. There were two whales and they kept circling us. At one point I was about 10 ft away from one that was swimming directly below me. If I could have I would have swam with them for hours. This was easily my favorite snorkel and I cannot remember ever being so happy to wake up so early.  Katherine

Busy Bee

This week my schedule was completely full with interviews, workshops and a protest, it has been one of the busiest weeks thus far. Even though I am more than half way done with my internship there is still so much work to be done, a handful of interviews to do, factories to communicate with, and to learn how the different maquila federation work.  I have learned a great deal about the industry and heard just about every excuse a factory can make to deny that their factories is being operated under sweatshop condition. In the case of the factory shown above, workers tried to organize but sadly all efforts were put to a whole when more than half of those workers were fired because there was a mysterious personal cut. There is really not much that I can do about the situation, but one things that I am doing is educating students about the condition that our universities clothes are being made. These thoughts are motivating me to try to apply the work that I am completing to a high level of consumer consciousness. Even though it would be impossible to fix anything within two months at least there has been some improvement that I have notice while conducting factory investigations, one regarding workers attitude towards unionizing, second realizing that students care about the workers and lastly the gratification that workers seem to express towards United Students Against Sweatshops (USAS) for sending interns to Central America, because workers are in desperate need of support in their struggle for a living wage salary.

Joanna

I Won’t Forget This!

The Batman premier in Denver, Colorado shook the world. Sitting in a restaurant in Argentina watching the news, I saw the headline in Spanish, “Masacre en un Cine” (Massacre en a Movie Theater). The subtitle went on to explain that people 12 died. Thoughts of condolences flooded my mind as I tried to take in this event. I soon realized this event took place in Denver, Colorado, U.S.A., my home country. This tragedy quickly found sympathizers around the world. Moments of heartbreak force us to confront our feelings. Consciously or not, many people live by the motto “ignorance is bliss.” In reality, ignorance is by definition: “The condition of being uneducated, unaware, or uniformed.” If “knowledge is power”, ignorance is weakness.

Spending time outside of my familiar life has allowed me to grow immensely. In this time of heightened sensitivity, my profound reflective processing of the world occurs frequently. Now is a time of action for me. Worrying wastes effort. I can use this energy to live a fuller life instead. Life is short. Living in a society that emphasizes being youthful causes many people to deny this fact, but numerous cases including myself testify this reality with our lives that have come within hours of not existing on this earth any more. I now use my story to encourage people to not waste their lives. Take advantage of our unique ability to live every moment to the fullest. I strive to live in the present and prepare for the future.

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The Museum of the Memory

Recently, an experience here confronted me and my knowledge of the world. We visited “Museo de la Memoria” (Museum of the Memory). This building is dedicated to remembrance of the “Dirty War” that happened in Argentina very recently. So recently in fact, effects of the government genocide still resonate today. I can’t explain the whole tragedy, but as I walk through parts of the museum, information about the disappearance of tens of thousands of people will be revealed.

The “Museum of the Memory” is located right across the street from where I have classes in the morning. Every day, I look out the window at this beautiful building. After class, we walk across the street close enough to touch the white fringe of the museum as we go to lunch next store. For weeks, I walked by this building impressed by its beauty, but completely unaware of its ugly past. For 25 years, this building acted as a place of military power for the 2nd Army Corps. Government officials sat in its rooms craftily plotting the extermination of over 30,000 of its own citizens. In 1976, suspected opponents of the government began to “disappear”. They were kidnapped from their homes in the middle of the night and taken to detention centers to be tortured and killed. Some people tried to flee the country, but they government would easily capture them when they applied for a passport. One of the first cases was a lady who handed her baby to a friend and walked into the building to get her passport. She was never seen again. Instead, a military officer walked out and asked where they child of the lady that walked in was. Her friend said, “Here”. The officer took the baby inside and it was never seen again either.

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A painting of a scarf from one of the Mothers of the Plaza

One of the first places we saw in the Museum was “Round”. This piece symbolizes the marches of the “Madres de la Plaza de Mayo” (Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo). Soon after the disappearing started, people realized loved ones were missing. Some of these victims even pregnant women and babies. Some of these babies were illegally given to other families of government sympathizers with forged adoption papers. The mothers and grandmothers gathered in protest in the Plaza de Mayo, which is directly in front of the “Casa Rosada” (Pink house), which is equivalent to the United States’ White House. There were laws against loitering. The mothers would get in trouble of standing, so they started to march. This march of resistance to the last military dictatorship continues on today every Thursday. They wear white scarves on their heads symbolizing their missing babies’ diapers. I fortunately witnessed this march when I visited the Plaza de Mayo in Buenos Aires.

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The Mothers of the Plaza still marching after 35 years

A memorial for those who have been found lays as a puzzle on one of the walls of the museum. One wall represents people those that have found their true identity; the other wall those who have an identity, but remain lost. Many people come to this museum if they have doubts about their identity or want help finding a loved one. The search to find even more of the disappeared continues. Many people travel to the museum to see the name of their loved ones on the “Pillars of Memory”. These are large metal pillars engraved with the names of known victims. The last sections of the pillars remain free, so that names of those who continue to be found can be added.

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Emily looking at the pillars of memory

This experience presented so much information and raw emotion to take in. I still grapple with the feeling given to me walking through this place of remembrance. I had to record this feeling and share this information with the world. I know that I did not address everything. I hope that if you have questions about anything, you will investigate them more for yourself. Do not allow yourself to be ignorant of the events around the world and in your community. There is strength in numbers. Building connections and unifying with one another, we can accomplish more than we ever thought possible. I would not be where I am today without the support of many. We were not made to live this life alone. By design, humans long to be in relationship. During this Olympic time, countrymen gather to support their home lands. Let us not forget that we all share a global community. This museum is part of the collation for human rights around the world not only in Argentina. If nothing else, remember. Don’t forget the victims and their families. I support the recognition of the victims of Denver shooting. So many times the killers become famous when we should remember the heroes!

This blog is in memory of:

Jessica Ghawi, 24

Veronica Moser, 6

Matt McQuinn, 27

Alex Sullivan, 27

Micayla Medek, 23

John Larimer, 27

Jesse Childress, 29

Gordon W. Cowden, 51

Jonathan T. Blunk, 26

Rebecca Ann Wingo, 32

Alexander C. Teves, 24

Alexander J. Boik, 18

God Bless,

Cain