A Little Spring in my Step

Lately, I find myself to be increasingly thankful for what I have. This is a welcome reprieve from the self-loathing and intense feelings of failure I have experienced for a number of weeks. One day last week, shortly after the last failed attempt to cross the border I believe, I simply lost my mind. That is to say, I lost the ability to communicate internally or externally, and I could feel myself reeling from too much stress. At this point, I wisely kicked Pat out of our room, turned on some soothing yoga music and proceeded to meditate for roughly 30 minutes. The deep, conscious breathing and the soothing music brought me back down to earth long enough to see how much I have to be thankful for. Here are a few notable things I would like to mention:

Even though I have a bright red rash on my cheeks from daily exposure to the bitterly cold air that has been wailing through Mendoza this week, everyone keeps telling me that really: this is probably the last cold spell of the winter. Halleujah! Spring is on the way. I have never been more ready for a sunburn in my life...

Several weeks ago, my warm-hearted mother took pity on me and sent a box of clothes, books, and Burt's Bees chapstick via USPS. As many of you may have heard, the post office in Argentina is fairly world-renowned at losing, stealing, or permanently interring international mail at the customs office in Buenos Aires. After hearing the recounting of several tales of woe from friends and acquaintances here, I harbored very little hope of ever receiving said package. If it did make it to me, I fully expected to pay an exorbitant fee for the privilege of carrying it out of the post office in one piece. However, by some inconceivable stroke of good fortune, my package not only made it to Argentina, but to the local post office in Mendoza in one piece: unopened, unmolested and mysteriously free of accumulated charges. In the end, I walked out those doors clutching my package to my chest, blissfully unaware of the cruel, cold wind with a Chirstmas-morning smile plastered resolutely on my face.

After weeks of fairly starving for work as we struggled to pay our rent AND buy food, offers of employment have been comparatively flying my way lately. As many teachers here have commented: it is extremely difficult to get started but once you are established a bit, there is plenty of demand. In other words, if you want to come live in Argentina, you most surely need a very large nest egg to live off for at least a few months. But eventually, your name gets around, and if the people have good things to say about you, work will surely come your way. Now, my problem seems to be finding a way to make my schedule stretch and cut my commute time down to zero, while still partaking of that most glorious South American ritual: the daily siesta.

Against all odds, I have an incredible, warm, and cozy apartment that feels like home. Why do I say against all odds? Because every other foreigner I have met here has been struggling to find a place to call home. Some of them for three or four times as long as I have even been in Argentina. Why is it so difficult? It all stems from the fact that the government here likes to make it really easy to be illegal, and really difficult to be legal. And just like in the States, being an illegal comes with all sorts of problems and limitations. One of the biggest being the fact that you often have to pay your ENTIRE rent up front to find a place to live. Every time I come home, I feel so lucky to have chanced into this great place through a random connection that just happened to click.

I started Spanish class this week! The profound nature of this accomplishment can really only be appreciated by reading my blog entry entitled Mission Spanish: Impossible. I am greatly indebted to a certain gentleman named Sergio, who really went way out of his way to make this class work for me; including a price discount, a used book he scrounged up from the basement, and an offer of free personal grammar lessons if I felt totally drowned in my lack of formal training. To Sergio and all the others out there who really put themselves out to help others, I am so thankful for you!

And I am most eternally thankful for my family and friends. It has been difficult to make real connections down here, more difficult that I expected. Partly owing to the language barrier exacerbated my failure to learn Spanish before arrival, partly due to the insular nature of the community in which we chose to settle. Nonetheless, I often miss the easy connection of friends and family here and I am blessed to have many who care enough to keep in touch despite the long distance. Besos to you all! And to my most constant companion, friend, and support- Thanks Dumples- I love you more every day and I truly could not do this without you (and don't be mad that I published your nickname online...)