The Post Is Dedicated To...

Mis hermanos, Nico and Manuel.

They both left me. Manuel yesterday, and Nico today. It was awful. They're the ones that I started this adventure with. The ones that I figured out the city with, ate empanadas for the first time with, and sat around the dinner table with every night. We have had some crazy adventures in this past month, and I feel so lucky to have been able to spend my first month in Buenos Aires with such amazing brothers.

From the beginning it was like we were instantly family. The first night that we were here we sat in the kitchen on the roof and played cards, drank tea, and just hung out (after attempting to go out and getting ridiculously lost and ending up back at home). From then on I always knew that I had two people here who I could lean on, talk to, and be safe around. When just talking about a month, it doesn't seem like a lot of time, but with us, it's feels like it's been a year.

I really just don't have any idea what I'm going to do without you two. Home isn't going to be the same without you. You guys made it so easy for me to call this place home, and I can't believe that this month is already over. Seriously, what the heck am I going to do? 

HOW AM I EVER GOING TO KNOW WHERE I'M GOING?! (Real talk though... you guys know how good I am with directions...)

Thank you so so much for making this first month so memorable and amazing, and for being the best brothers I could have ever wanted to begin this with. I wish you guys were here to finish it with me, but no matter what I know that both of you will always be in my heart. I miss you both so much already, and it hasn't even been 24 hours yet. I feel so lucky to have you guys in my life, it's going to be so strange without you.

Love you both so much, stay wonderful. 

Note-Worthy Argentine Observations

I love lists, because they're quick and to the point. Here are a few of some of my observations that I think you may find interesting, or at least I hope so.

• The idea of putting ice in drinks does not exist
• Milk is NOT refrigerated, it's just sold on regular shelves in the supermarket and kept in the cupboards
• The majority of four way intersections DON'T have stop signs--it's probably the most terrifying experience
• (For you language buffs) the "ll" is pronounced as "sh"
• For example: Como te llamas? is pronounced: como te SHamas?
• Also, the informal word for you isn't "tu," it's "vos"
• NOT TO BE CONFUSED WITH "VOSOTROS" 
• And the "vos" form of verbs is sometimes different than the "tu" form
• Unlike street performers in the US who get completely ignored at best, people here clap for the street performers on the buses and subways
• The typical greeting is a kiss on the cheek, and EVERYONE does it ALL THE TIME, including at the end of soccer games, both teams make sure they have kissed everyone on the other team as to say "good game."
• This applies to men with each other as well
• If you aren't aware, Argentina's history is ridiculously sad
• Dinner is at 9 or later every night, so that the whole family can be present

And since I'm getting sicker by the moment, I'm going to keep this short and sweet!

Hugs!

Crystal

Much Needed Updates About the Adventures

I am so sorry all my beautiful people back in the US (and possibly The Netherlands as well) that I have totally slacked on my blog updates! Things got so busy and so exciting that I kept meaning to write, and then it got to the point where I am now that I don’t even know where to start.

But start I will!

First of all, I absolutely love Buenos Aires.

Since I last wrote:

I joined the soccer team officially. I had my first game the day after I wrote my last post, and it was amazing. To finally be able to get back into sports after being out of physical activity completely for 2 years is a feeling too great to describe in words. Sports had been my outlet for my whole life, and to have the ability to play them taken away devastated me. I never got over it (as my mother can vouch for—thanks for listening to me cry about wanting to cheer or play soccer for the past 2 years!) Soccer here is so much fun. It’s awesome because it’s a way I can get to make Argentine friends, which can be hard when I’m constantly surrounded by Americans. The girls are so sweet, and I’m so happy to be a part of the team.

I’ve also gone to a few Ferias. They are these big markets on Sundays where people sell tons of homemade stuff from jewelry, journals, tea boxes, tons of leather products, scarves, and any souvenirs you could think of, painted beautifully with scenes typical to Buenos Aires. It’s kind of the thing to do on Sundays since there’s not too much else open.

As far as landmark places I’ve been to, I visited the El Ateneo bookstore. It used to be a theatre and then they transformed it into a huge bookstore, and they even still have some box seats in there where you can sit and read for as long as you’d like. I bought two books in Spanish, one is a book full of over 250 of Frida Kahlo’s paintings and brief descriptions of where she was, what she was doing, and what provoked her to paint them. (Thanks Dr. McCutcheon for sparking my interest in her!) I also bought the book Safe Haven by Nicholas Sparks in Spanish, Un Lugar Donde Refugiarse. It’s beautiful in there:

I also went to La Boca! The neighborhood of Buenos Aires always depicted in paintings and such with all of the bright colored houses. I went with two of my friends from school because we had to do a presentation on a specific neighborhood in BA and we chose La Boca. It was quite the experience. To be honest, I’m not really that big of a fan. It was packed with tourists and people constantly offering you this or that, for a tip. I wouldn’t mind if the tango dancers in La Boca danced and set out a hat for money (like the rest of the street performers in the world do), but in La Boca they wait until people walk by and then ask them if they want to take a picture with them, for money, or if they want to see them dance, for money. They’re just extremely pushy to the tourists there, to the point where it became really uncomfortable. The neighborhood itself minus the people is beautiful though. All of the houses are so bright and multicolored, and there are a lot of interesting things to see. Unfortunately, La Boca is only about 2 streets of safe area, and beyond that it’s a pretty dangerous place to be. We went to the Feria there as well but it was tiny, there were only about 20 tents, maybe less. There are a ton of shops though, some of which are inside a row of the bright colored buildings, so it almost feels like you’re walking into someone’s house instead of into a store.

My friends Zach, Aaron and I!

The Feria

Zach and I!

In other exciting news—LAST WEEK WAS MY BIRTHDAY! July 4^th! It was the first birthday that I’ve ever had school on, and also a midterm. But the rest of the day was amazing. One of my brothers and I went to this café called Tea Connection and had deserts and tea with two girls who also live in the house.

After that he and I went to Palermo (which is a giant, possibly the biggest neighborhood in BA) and walked around for a while. We explored a ton and stumbled across two art galleries. Both of which invited us to showings, with wine! (Not that I like wine but it makes me sound refined.) In one of the galleries, the lady who runs in let us into the back room where they store all of the paintings the will or have been shown in the main gallery. It was full of beautiful artwork, and we spent a significant chunk of time exploring.

Since I’ve been here I’ve stumbled across so many little art galleries just by walking around, and each time we’ve rang the doorbell and everyone has been so welcoming in letting us see inside.

After the art galleries we found this really awesome, borderline vintage-looking bookstore. It was pretty big inside, and reminded me of Rustbelt bookstore in Allentown magnified by 5. They had some funky sections, and really interesting books that you wouldn’t find at a normal bookstore. There was a little café in the back, and some good indie music playing. We then went an explored this store that sells the most random, possibly useless, and quirky gadgets. They have these stores all around in the city, and they are just hilarious. For example, they sell watches that have the wrong time on them, with no numbers, and giant clips that clip to a table and serve as a cup holder. They’re so fun, and every time I see one I can’t stop myself from going in. After that we went and looked around this tiny music store for a bit before heading home.

After dinner that night my host parents both walked into the kitchen and without saying anything shut off all the lights and brought out a giant lemon pie with this pretty, fluffy frosting on top with two candles in it, and started singing happy birthday to me in Spanish. The whole family (all 10 of them) joined in and sang to me! It was seriously the highlight of my birthday, not only because it was the best pie I’ve ever eaten, but because they made it a point to do something special for me—something families do for each other.

After dinner my brothers and I went out, and danced and laughed non-stop all night long with a bunch of my other friends from school and such (well until 1:30 when Nico and I got tired and went home).

Zach, Manuel (one of my brothers), JJ, and I! (Don't fret all, I was 100% sober)

Birthday (: There's water in the cup!

In conclusion, my birthday was amazing.

As if that wasn’t exciting enough, on July 9^th (Argentina’s independence day) my friends and I went to play… POLO! Like the kind on horses! It was a day long extravaganza.

First, we had to take a shuttle about 45/50 minutes outside of the city of BA, to a polo club. When we got there we got a little background on the game of polo, while being fed endless empanadas and wine (of which I didn’t drink, but again, just mentioning it makes me feel refined). I must note, the empanadas were the absolute BEST empanadas I’ve had here, no doubt.

After that we got to watch a professional polo game, play around a bit with the mallets, and take pictures with the players and the horses. (While we were taking the pictures the horse I was standing next to keep putting his face on me, searching desperately for my attention.) After the game we had an asado (barbeque) lunch, which is so typical to Argentina. It’s also what we have every Sunday. They had tons and tons of meat, (of which I didn’t eat) lots of salad, fried vegetables, and my favorite, BREAD! The bread here is magical.

After lunch we hung out for a while and then suited up, and got on the horses! In typical Argentinean fashion, they just threw people on horses, who may never have ridden before, or have only ridden once or twice, and hoped that they figured it out. Of course, being the nervy mcgurvy that I am, I was terrified. They put me on the biggest horse there, Gaucho, and I haven’t ridden a horse in 10 years. I didn’t know how to control him, or anything. He just started walking and I was freaking out. Gaucho decided that he wasn’t going to stay inside the polo field, nope, he was going to do his own thing, walk out of the field into a giant path of mud. We were walking slowly but I was freaking out, yelling “AYUDAME, AYUDAME, SOMEBODY HELP MEEEE!” Neither language worked. FINALLY, after Gaucho decided to just stop in the mud, someone came over to me and explained how to turn him around. At that point, I was done, and almost in tears. I told one of the people who worked there that I wanted to get off, I was so scared. But the guy just grabbed Gaucho and led him around with me on him. That I was totally fine with because we were going at such a nice, crawling, speed.

Since it was pouring out, we couldn’t play polo, so they decided to take us riding through a lagoon instead! But, the guy wasn’t allowed to lead me over there, so I had to go on my own. Gaucho and I started to get along much better. I learned how to make him turn, stop, and even trot! We trotted a bit on the trail over to the lagoon, but after like five seconds of trotting I would get scared because it felt so fast. Once we got to the lagoon, all the horses (like 20 of them) all galloped together through the water. Because Gaucho was with all of his friends, he wasn’t about to listen to me, so gallop we did! Which was terrifying, but at the same time pretty awesome. The second time we ran through the lagoon I turned him around so he couldn’t see his friends and run with them, and once they were through, him and I turned around and trotted on through. 

My babe Gaucho and I!

Trying to warm up after riding!

By the end of riding, we were all completely soaked, head to toe. We huddle around a fire for maybe 30 minutes or so, drinking tea and trying to dry our clothes. It was such an amazing day. It was so much fun, slightly terrifying, but an experience I will absolutely never forget. Since it was raining (pouring) and we didn’t get to play polo, we get to go back for free and play when it’s better weather! 

I think my favorite thing about Buenos Aires are the cafes. There are SO MANY cafes, one every 20 feet it seems. We go to a different one everyday. They're so nice to just go hang out with friends in, study some Spanish, and drink some really good tea. Last week my brothers and I found this really cute, kind of fancy cafe with really good Lindt hot chocolate. Here:

Nico and I!

Okay, I think that's sufficient for now! I'll update in a few days about all the other things I've been up to, and how my Spanish is coming along! 

P.S. I don't have time to edit this because I have to get to a museum (for class) soon, so I'm sorry if there are tons of typos, or awkward sentences! 

Hugs to you all!

Crystal

Updates after 1 week!

Where to begin?!

This has been one very long, very eventful, and very exhausting week. Tomorrow morning is the official 1 week mark, and I feel like I’ve been here for months. It’s been amazing, but also a bit overwhelming.

I started school this week, on Monday. We took our placement tests and to my surprise I was placed in intermediate 2, which is the class one level under advanced. I was expecting to be put in intermediate 1, but after just three days of classes I’m realizing that I really do know more than I realize.

The first actual day of classes was Tuesday, and that was pretty rough. It was just really overwhelming because our classes are 100% taught in Spanish, my entire house speaks Spanish, and even some of the American students speak Spanish to each other. It was overload. My brain was so exhausted and I got down on myself pretty quickly, which I tend to do. I was wondering if I was in the right class, and if I was ever going to be able to speak Spanish. At that moment I felt like I was in over my head, and that it was going to be a really difficult and possibly unfulfilling process. After school I really just wanted to sleep, but instead I forced myself to walk around Buenos Aires and find a music school where they offer guitar lessons. Two hours later, I found one. Naturally, the people there couldn’t speak a word of English, further adding to my frustration and exhaustion. I got home and passed out until one of my housemates woke me up to go to a tango class!

Tango was amazing! It was so much fun, and so captivating. Watching the teacher demonstrate the moves made me really want to pursue classes and be able to actually tango well. I can’t believe that people come to Argentina and don’t learn to tango; it’s so much fun and so much a part of the culture. It’s an absolute must. I’ll be going every week, possibly twice a week, so when I get back to America I’ll be a pro and can grace you all with tango lessons… or something like that!

Since Tuesday class has been getting so much better. Basically, we laugh the entire time, and the professor is constantly making fun of me (in the most loving way possible). Every time I say anything he just looks at me and bursts out laughing. Before coming to Argentina I wasn’t aware that I was a comical person, but evidently people here think that is so! Kudos to me! We play games every day in class, and chat a lot about tons of different subjects. We’ve been doing grammar mostly, but it’s all grammar that I already know so I’m glad that it’s something that I don’t have to struggle with. Vocabulary is my main issue with Spanish. I understand the grammar, sentence structure, and all that pretty well, but I’m just lacking the words to say what I want. Room for improvement!

The must-have-nightlife-blurb:

Nightlife here is QUITE the experience, to say the least. Basically Argentines don’t go out to the bars until 12:30/1:00AM, and don’t go to the clubs until 2:00/3:00AM, and don’t go home until 5:00AM ish. It is wild. The first night we went out we went with a huge group of like 15 of us. (All of the students here with AIFS, since the 2 boys who live here are with AIFS and I’m the only CCIS person so I stick with them). We had so much fun, and danced the whole night. We met two Argentine girls who were the sweetest and danced with us all night!

But last night was seriously memorable. Manuel (one of my housemates who, along with the other one, Nico, I call “mi hermano!”) and I went to this bar that was having an event that they hold each week. Basically you go in and get stickers with the flag of your home country on it, along with flags of the countries which languages you speak, or want to practice. So you go around and mingle and talk to people with flags that you want to speak the language or, or just ones that you find interesting. It was awesome! We talked to so many interesting people, and there were even Dutch people there! [Which as a side note, there are a ton of here anyways]. Afterwards we went to this club where people were all dancing tango, so Manuel and I, in our most obvious American fashion, sadly attempted the same. I’m sure it wasn’t pretty, but it was so much fun. We got home at like 4:30 and had to be at school this morning at 10:00. The life of study abroad.

MIS HERMANOS!

Speaking of mis hermanos, they totally deserve a shout out here. Nico and Manuel are seriously like two big brothers here. We pretty much stick together and they’re protective of me when we go out and such just like brothers are. They’re seriously amazing, and I feel so lucky to have two people like them in my life here. It just furthermore adds to my feeling of home, and my love of this experience.

Dinner every night is something I seriously look forward to. With all of us sitting around our kitchen table, having a billion different conversations in Spanish with our host parents, it’s evident that this is home. My host dad is always telling mis hermanos to make sure that they take care of me and make sure that I’m okay when we go out—it’s pretty hilarious and adorable. My host dad is HILARIOUS. He is constantly making jokes, and although I can only understand 50% of them, I’m constantly laughing around him. A few days ago when I woke up and was walking to the bathroom I saw him by the stairs so I was like, “Hola!” and he stepped back like he was completely surprised, threw both of his hands in the air and said, “BUEN DIA!” so loud and enthusiastic you would have thought that I was the pope.

Everything about this house, and this family, is so homey and so comfortable, that after only a week I feel so at home and like I’ve already gained another family.

I love this country so much, and am so excited to explore and learn more about it. Last night, on the bus to the bar there were two street performers, one with a guitar, and one who sang. They were so good, but after they played I was unsure whether people were going to ignore them or acknowledge their presence. To my surprise, the whole bus started clapping, and in that moment I so much about the culture here became clear. If something is enjoyable, enjoy it, appreciate it, and just live your life. There’s no need to stress over little things, or become irritated over different lifestyles and different people. Embrace it, and relax.

That’s all for now! This weekend I’m going to a zoo, and to a Jesus amusement park—there’s no way that can’t be interesting. Oh and tomorrow I have my first soccer game! I seriously can't wait!

I’ll be sure to report back!

All of the love!

Crystal

I've Never Been so Happy to Wake Up Where I Am

This morning when I woke up I was so genuinely happy to be where I was. I was so comfortable, and I don’t mean physically comfortable because it’s winter here and there’s no heat, but mentally I suppose. I felt like this is where I’m supposed to be, exactly where. Feeling at home has always been a foreign concept to me, but here, I almost think that I finally feel at home.

So let me fill you in on what it’s like! First of all, it’s more than I could have ever imagined, expected, or hoped for. My host family has this huge, beautiful, classic Argentinean home. On one side, it’s their home, connected but on the other side, is the students’ space. I live with a ton of other international students! Our side of the house has about 15 rooms and 4 floors. In the middle of our house there is a giant, beautiful, dark green winding staircase that goes up all 4 floors that is open, as in no roof. The rooms basically circle the staircase on the first and fourth floors. The third floor is where our houses connect. It’s the kitchen and it’s so beautiful and classic. Covered in Argentine décor, and get this! DELFTS BLUE DUTCH DÉCOR! (Seriously, how can it be?! Loving it). On the roof there’s a roof terrace where we have asado (barbecue) every Sunday with the family! On the terrace as well, there is an enclosed space where you can go if it’s too cold or raining or something. (We spent all night in there last night playing Argentinean card games).  I’ll post pictures so you can get a visual!

Roof Terrace!

Our staircase looking down to one of the bedrooms.

The landing going into the kitchen.

Our staircase!

It’s winter here, and since our house is pretty much open, it is freezing and there is no heat. The temperature yesterday was somewhere around 40 degrees, with no heat in the house… just ponder that for a second. But you know what? It’s so cold and unchanging that I actually got used to it really fast and didn’t really even notice it after a while. I know, crazy because I’m the girl who never stops complaining about being cold, but I guess I just had to experience this, and get some thicker skin.

That’s the structure of the house, here’s the life: we eat breakfast in the family kitchen anytime from 8-12 in the morning, and dinner with the WHOLE family (ALL the students, and our host parents) at 9:00PM every night. Sundays we have asado on the roof! We have two full bathrooms on the first floor and I think the boys on the fourth have one. (The guys live on the fourth floor and all the girls on the first). We also have our own kitchens where we can go and cook and eat and such when it’s not breakfast or dinner.

Right now there are five students still living here from last semester. They all leave within the next week though. There are only three of us who have just arrived but there are five more coming (4 girls and 1 guy). It’s me, and two boys, one from Texas and one from Maryland. We basically just explored yesterday and ate too many empanadas. Right around the corner from our house is a little empanada shop, where you can get like 12 different kinds of empanadas. One of the housemates who has been here took us on a tour of the city yesterday and showed us how to get to school (which is only about a fifteen minute walk, and a beautifully scenic route at that) and we stopped to get some empanadas first. I had an Española—no idea what was in it but it was good. Later on, one of the boys and I were hungry, since dinner isn’t until 9:00, so we went over and got some more. They’re only 6 pesos, which is less than a dollar, meaning that I WILL be coming back to America 50 pounds heavier.

Let me just stick in a section here about the language. So EVERYONE in this house speaks fluent Spanish, yup even the two guys who just got here when I did. Also, my host parents don’t speak English. Has anyone heard my Spanish, yeah… NOT FLUENT. So I’ve been stumbling a bit, but it’s almost borderline hilarious. Dinner last night was quite the experience. Sitting around the table with 9 other people who are fluently having all these conversations with my host parents who speak a mile a minute and me just starring around trying to grasp the overall themes of the conversation was ridiculous. I didn’t speak more than two sentences, but after dinner I gave my host parents some gifts and I got to speak some more to them without the pressure of being around 9 other people, and I was pretty much able to communicate. So there’s that.

Last night after dinner, the guys and I decided to go out—problem being that we didn’t know where the bus stop was, but had all the directions for after we got to the bus stop. As I’m sure you can guess, we walked around Buenos Aires for about an hour, got ridiculously lost, and wound up right back at home. Don’t fret, the boys walked on each side of me and we, well they, spoke only Spanish, so we didn’t look like easy targets. We got back safe and sound, so apparently it worked. We decided to just stay in and play cards, listen to music, and chill instead. Probably more of what we needed after 15 hours of travel.

Right now I’m in a temporary bedroom that literally looks like Harry Potter’s under the stairs room, but it’s pretty cozy so I don’t mind. Once the girl leaves whose room I’m taking, I’ll move over there.

About my host parents: they are probably the cutest, warmest, Argentinean parents ever. And that’s that.

Lastly: the flight here. This I must brag about. So my mom and I decided it may be a clever idea to book my seat in the middle of an empty three seat row so that maybe no one would book next to me and I could have all three seats to myself to sprawl out and sleep. AND IT WORKED. Yup, had all three seats to myself and literally slept the ENTIRE 10 and a half hour flight. Best flight ever. I was slightly overwhelmed when I got off the plane, and majorly confused, but I figured it out and got to the taxi in one piece.

Basically, I just feel so at home here and am so happy that I came despite my anxiety. Thank you everyone who listened to me freak out all the time and told me that that was normal and things were going to be okay, and especially for not letting me back out—you know who you are, and I love you all! I start school Monday, and have my placement test then so once I get my classes and such I’ll report back!

If you have any questions, or I totally forgot to mention something just leave it in the comments and I’ll respond in a post ASAP.

Oh one more thing—we BARELY have wifi in the house. It’s ridiculously spotty and isn’t reliable so you realize really quick how dependent you are on technology and how awful that is. It’s crazy the amount of time we spend connected to the internet and to others through social media. It’s kind of nice though, having to actually be productive and creative. Leaves much more time for guitar playing, that’s for sure. But if you do want to message me, download Kik messenger on your phone, that works quite a bit so feel free!

I almost forgot! We have a beautiful, friendly kitty! And an awesome dog! Yayyyyy.

Alright, that’s all for now! Stay sweet all my beautiful people!

CHAU! 

Crystal

Frantic Thoughts from the Airport

As I sit here in the airport awaiting my flight to Newark, NJ and then to Buenos Aires, I am frantically trying to occupy my nervous mind with writing. 

Side thought: have you ever realized how beautiful writing is? Once it's put down to paper or on the Internet screen it becomes such a valuable representation and lasting impression of the author. It's taking their most intimate belongings, their thoughts, and putting them to words, and sometimes even giving other people the beauty to understand them as well. That is why I'm so honest when it comes to blogging; I want you to be able to take a second and see life from my eyes, to try to begin to understand the numerous facets of myself, that sometimes until I write down, I don't even know I possess. Writing is honest, or it should be. It's so powerful to allow people to connect, and that's why honesty is so important. You never know when you story could help someone else put some pieces together of their own.

Well there ya have it, semi sentimental thoughts from my racing mind. I'm nervous, yes, very nervous. I'm nervous that when I step off the plane in buenos aires I'm going to be so overwhelmed that I'm just going to burst. But, as many of you know, I will probably be perfectly fine and that's pretty much just my anxiety speaking for me. And to cure that, I got a smoothie. (Fun fact: smoothies are my natural form of antidepressants/antianxiety medications. They seriously make me instantly zen.) 

*also a totally appropriate opportunity to use the word "zen."

Thank goodness I have two Andrea Gibson books, a "wreck this journal," two novels, and 5 new albums on my phone to listen to to chill all of these totally obnoxious cognitions. 

*also totally appropriate opportunity to use the word "cognitions."

By the time this 15 hour journey is over who knows what kind of treats you would be left with without all of those handy time-killers. 

Also don't judge me for being a 20 year old traveling with a stuffed bunny and a monsters university blanket. A girls gotta do what a girls gotta do!

Oh me oh my, wish me luck!

Chau! 

24 Hours Until Departure

Hola everyone!

The countdown is just about over and it's official; in about 24 hours I will be waiting in the Buffalo airport for my flight to Newark, and then off to Buenos Aires. I'm not sure that it has set in yet that I'm leaving. It's like I've been ignoring the countdown and just have been living my life as if I'm not about to leave for almost 5 months. I'm really, really good at that--ignoring and pushing away all anticipation of big changes, so when they hit me it's not until I'm already waist deep and have forgotten how to swim. (I think that skill was a byproduct of trying to have no expectations).

With that said, it probably won't hit me until  I step off the plane in Buenos Aires, and find my way to my luggage that I'm not just there for a vacation, I'm there to recreate my life for a while, and I have lots to do before I can head back to America.

This is what I have recently found out and basically all I know of what I'm stepping in to:

1. My host family is a mother and a father with three grown children of their own, who are also married, with children. 
2. They life 7 blocks from the university (Universidad de Belgrano).
3. They are hosting more than one international student, so I will basically have the hassle of making my first friend taken care of. 
4. On Monday I will meet the CCIS (the program I'm going with) program coordinator for coffee at 9AM and then I will be off to my placement test at 10AM. 

And that's the extent of what I know about my soon-to-be Argentine life.

I'm real excited at this point though, which is a relief because just 2 months ago I was standing in the Study Abroad office at school contemplating whether or not this is the right thing for me. This is absolutely what I need to be doing, and when I need to be doing it.

That's all for now, stay tuned for my first (probably frantic) post from Buenos Aires!

All of the love,
Crystal

Back to blogging: 4 years wiser, a new adventure on the horizon

It's been 4 years since I began anticipating my trip to The Netherlands, and here I am again getting ready to embark on another journey of a lifetime, but with a bit of a different approach and attitude. 

Culture shock was something that hit me hard upon arrival in Schipol Airport in Amsterdam on August 18, 2009, and did not loosen its grip until sometime in late November. I was young, just turned 16 years old a month prior to departure and I was looking for an escape, and a student exchange was the perfect chance. I had nothing keeping me in America, and everything pushing me away. 

A year in Zoetermeer, The Netherlands would give me the escape I needed, but not the one I expected. 

I walked onto the plane in Buffalo with a mind-full of expectations, fantasies, and daydreams about life in Holland. I had always gone to long-term summer camps, and had few homesick issues, so I didn't think it would be too bad.  I expected the open-minded attitudes of the Dutch government to be ever clear in the general Dutch population. I anticipated 0 instances of homophobia, clear acceptance and love for diversity, and just a general sense of belonging. In America I had been searching for a place like The Netherlands that lived in my mind, but not for The Netherlands that became my reality. 

My host family and I did not click right off the bat. I sat in the back seat of my host-dad's teeny tiny yellow two-door car, starring out the window and the smallness of everything; the cars, trucks, roads, buildings... I silently cried consistently the entire hour ride to my new home. My stomach was in knots, and all I wanted to do was crawl into a hole and never come out. The anxiety was unbearable, and when I arrived in my new room the worst thing that could have happened, happened: I could not get internet access on my laptop. I was therefore left 100% alone, or so I thought. I could not talk to my friends or family, get support from them at home, and have a virtual shoulder to cry on. I was terrified. 

I began unpacking my clothes when my host mother knocked on my door. I quickly wiped the tears away, terrified that she would ask what was wrong. I knew she could see it in my eyes that I had been crying and that I was not happy, but she didn't push the issue. Instead she just asked if I needed any help, I kindly said no, so she showed me all the closet area I had and left me to be alone. 

There was nothing I wanted more than to go to sleep and wake up in my bed in Fredonia, but I woke up the next morning to rustling in the kitchen (two floors down). I have never had to push myself so hard to get out of bed, move one foot in front of the other, down two flights of stairs, and through the heavy door separating the living room/kitchen and the foyer (making my presence known since that door is impossible to remain inconspicuous while opening/closing). I wanted to be invisible. I had this sense of utter discomfort that I could not shake. Tears could not help but well, and each breath I took felt like a boulder was crushing me into nothing. 

My host dad was the only one home, and asked me what I wanted for breakfast. All I could get down was water, food was repulsive and overwhelming. He told me to turn around and look into the garden, there stood an orange bike, freshly washed. It hurt to show gratitude. I was so grateful he had gotten me a bike, since that's the primary form of transportation there, but it was all too overwhelming. 

The roller coaster I was on until mid-November was a lot to carry. Depression was ever present, and guilt was not in short supply. I was supposed to be having the time of my life, and instead I couldn't get my emotions in check to do so. Host family living was very difficult, but my host-sister made the first few months bearable. I thank God everyday that I had Sterre there to soften the homesickness, and conflicts with my host parents. (Her and I were always getting in trouble together all the time, so we had something to bond over, besides our already similar styles and interests). 

I had some very hard times, but I also had some unbelievably wonderful times those first three months and most of them happened with Sterre. I was also so fortunate to have friends all over the country that I could freely visit each weekend. (The whole year I think I spent only 2 or 3 weekends at home). 

But it got better. A lot better.

I realized that it wasn't them who needed to accept me, and change for me, but I was young, and there was truth to what they were saying. I needed to change, realize that this is a different family that what I came from, and that this country is much, much different that America. I won't go into detail but from December on things started to get better. 

A huge moment that showed me how much I became a part of the family was in April. I hit a rough patch, made a bad decision but I realized that this was not just my host family, but my family. They loved me, and were proud of how far I had come in just a few months. They stuck up for me and did just what a real family would do if one of their children was in a pickle. Sterre had become my sister, someone who would remain in my life forever. We fought like sisters, had to have parental intervention like sisters, and got into trouble with our parents together, like sisters. We were always making my host dad mad, because we were obnoxious, but what teenage girls aren't?

Anyways, by the end of the year I had been changed. I matured so much. I became a much more critical thinker, I stopped taking things at face value. I knew things about the world, had a truly global perspective. I became fluent in Dutch, and saw and did things that some people never have the chance to do in their entire life. I visited 4 different countries: Holland, Germany, Belgium, and Suriname in one year. It was incredible, but most importantly, I had gained a new home, and a new family. There comes a point in exchange where it stops being a trip and starts being normal life. That's how you know you're doing it right. 

So The Netherlands changed my life, dramatically, and I truly believe for the better. Reverse culture shock was hard, but not unbearable.

Now it's four years later, and I'm doing things a bit differently; learning from my mistakes to make the transition easier on myself. I'm trying not to think of the difficulties I will have in Argentina in terms of the ones I had in Holland. I'm not going in with any expectations at all. Surprisingly, that has been the easiest part, pushing out the expectations. I have ideas of how to portray myself differently than I did in The Netherlands. 

When I was 16 I was a ball of uncontrollable energy, I still am energetic and bubbly, but not uncontrollable; which was the issue. I don't think I'm as overwhelming of a person to others, as I used to be. I think I'm a lot less in-your-face, and a lot more get-to-know-me. I spoke about 10 words of Dutch when I got off the plane, and now I speak quite a bit of Spanish, but am more nervous about the language than I was before. 

I'm trying to quiet my nerves, but as a nervous nancy, it's been difficult, but I think I'm doing the right thing. My anxiety is not stopping me from pursuing my dream that I've had the majority of my life. This is what I've been dreaming of since I was 7, to live in Buenos Aires, Argentina, and I'm finally getting the chance. The fact that my anxiety is so strong as it is is unfortunate, but I'm going to push through regardless. I'm not going to look back in 20 years and say "I wish I would have gone..." I'm going, it's truly now or never, and excitement has begun to slowly replace the nerves and reservations. Let's hope it continues in that manner. 

In one month and 2 days I will be on a plane to Buenos Aires, and onto an adventure that I'm sure is going to be just as life-changing as the first one (let's just hope with less speed bumps this time).

Stay tuned to be a part of my journey!