The guy wearing the t-shirt...

An interesting fact that I forgot to mention on the last entry: La Casa Rosada (the pink house) where the president lives is pink for a reason. It was initially painted with animal blood and they have continued to paint it the same color ever since.

I’ve talked with my mom about this before, and maybe I’ve talked to some of you about it to, and maybe some of you can relate. I absolutely hate going places where I don’t know what to do or how to act. I really really have a strong need to fit into a crowd and not draw attention to myself. When I’m somewhere where someone doesn’t know what to do, I get mad. When I’m in these situations, I try to act like I know what’s going on, but I usually end up looking too cool to actually know what’s going on… like the guy who wears the band’s t-shirt to the concert, and just make a bigger ass of myself. Just about every experience I’ve had so far in Buenos Aires has been exactly this. Some places are less painful than others, and when you are as anxious of a person as I am, you quickly find ways to avoid or de-intensify these situations. The market, for example, is a place that can be made less painful. Here, one is able to watch those in front of him and copy their words and/or actions. Places with big crowds can work in your favor, in that there is usually a model to follow, a current to continue… however, one also runs the risk of embarrassing himself in front of large numbers, or in front of workers who assume knowledge due to the “wearing of the band’s t-shirt to the concert” attitude. In the street, if I’m lost, I can still walk at a rapid pace, with my head high like I know where I’m going. Or, if I know that I missed the street that I was supposed to turn on, I can go around the block and make the turn instead of stopping in my tracks, looking around like an idiot and turning around to make the turn… this is just how I operate.

My first day of class today was nothing short of the above… actually it was more intense. I slept a lousy 4 hours due to anxiety of the dreaded situation and the damned elevator. I woke up at 6:20, for my 8am class. It was in the building that I was most familiar with which gave me a bit of relief. It was supposed to rain, so I didn’t know if I’d walk or not, and I didn’t know how busy the bus would be at 7am on a work day. Well I got to the bus stop at 7am, it arrived at 7:02, and I got to class at 7:17, in the dark with 45 minutes until class started. I walked into the building and I was definitely “wearing the t-shirt” feeling confidant because I had been in this building for two full days of orientation. Well this mornig, I was the only one in the building, aside from the janitor that was mopping. I left the building (realizing my Pieces tendencies and excusing them), and ordered a cup of coffee at the café across the street. The waiter actually understood me and I understood him, there were no “como?” or “que?” at all… I felt proud!

I finally made my way back into the building at 7:40, it had filled a bit. Students were reuniting with old friends after the winter break that had today come to an end (one kiss on the cheek is the appropriate Argentine greeting). In Argentina, students are assigned to “comisiones” or groups of students that they will attend classes with all throughout their college career, well, I was the odd man out. I finally found the classroom, looked at a girl standing outside the door, “psicologia?” I said to her (for some reason that’s all I could muster). “Como? Oh si, si, psicologia.” I walked in and sat down, the only male out of 30 females. My heart was racing… the professor walked in, let’s just refer to him as Sigmond Frued himself, minus the pipe, this guy was his twin. Brown Corderroy jacket atop a brown sweater with blue collar underneath. He smiled at me as to say, “welcome back, just another semester, another class, huh?” Hah, this guy had no clue what my beats per minute were and how profusely sweaty my armpits were underneath my nice “first day of class sweater” get-up. A girl I recognized from my building, another intercambio, walked in and sat behind me. I’d met her at the bar party a few nights before. She spoke really good Spanish I think she’s probably from a Spanish speaking country, but she was drunk at the party and probably didn’t recognize me. She was definitely confident; she didn’t have the language barrier like I did. I don’t think she was nervous like I was; maybe she was just wearing the t-shirt too.

I finally calmed down as some guys filed into the class, and the lecture progressed. Class ended up going well, it was a bit over my head generally… but all in all it went well, I didn’t embarrass myself and laughed along with the rest of the class (even though I didn’t get the joke). After class I was really tired from the language translating and my anxiousness from earlier had taken a toll on me. I didn’t have another class until 6pm and it was only 11am. I figured I’d get home around 11:30 and be able to take a nice long nap without interruptions.

I take the bus to class everyday, bus 111. I haven't ever taken it home from school, it's always been nice out so I've just walked home (25 blocks or so). Today it was shitty and I was tired so I decided to treat myself the 80 centavos and take it home. I stood at the bus stop, the first in line, confident because I’d taken this bus many times before. I didn’t have to front this time, I was confident here; I knew this routine. The same bus, bus 111 I boarded. I figured it just went in a big circle (wouldn’t that make sense?) and would arrive at my bus stop a block away from my apartment in 15 or 20 minutes. Well I definitely figured wrong, because the bus arrived at the ocean, everyone had gotten off and I was the last one on. The bus driver looked up at me in the rearview mirror and waved his arms as to say "get the fuck off the bus you idiot fucking gringo!" So, there I was, at the ocean, 60 blocks from my apartment, tired and hungry… all I wanted to do was take a nap. Damn it I deserved a nap after all of that this morning.
Well I decided to walk home instead of taking a taxi, again I didn’t want to be the dumb American who got lost and had to have a taxi save him. No, I was and am determined to learn this city and fit in like everyone else. I finally made it home, after walking over bridges, through unknown barrios, and past unfamiliar faces. I took off my black Puma’s, realized I'd actually walked through a new pair of black Goldtoe socks (at the balls of my feet), and took a nap... it was good!

A park that I had lunch at the other day, across the street from school...


Avenida de 9 de Julio, a very busy part of the city... 10 blocks from school...