I love you Uruguay!!!!

the courtyard where I spend the majority of my time

Working in a hostel is pretty much the greatest job ever. It's a built-in social life that I don't even really need a cell phone for. I get to meet people all the time and usually we make plans to hang out during the day too, since they're on vacation and pretty much so I am I. Everyone has been really cool and extremely generous and it makes me feel so great to have people here. A run-down -

The Brazilians - The Brazilians are professors who were taking a class in Montevideo and stayed with us for an entire month. They actually arrived the very first day I started working and I thought they were terrifying because they came in Portuguese a-blazing asking for discounts and all this other stuff that I was not equipped to provide. But after a week or so, they became fixtures in the hostel, always sitting around and working during the afternoon, then by night trading their computers for cerveza that was never cold enough for them no matter how long it had been in the freezer. (They called Uruguay the country of warm beer.)

Then they started having their friends over once a week that were staying in other places and cooking massive pots of amazing food and feeding the entire hostel. Friday nights became this huge social event with the entire Brazilian population converging at El Viajero. By the end, I was literally beginning to understand Portuguese to the point where I thought I'd master it before Spanish. On Friday, their very last night, they called me into their room with promises of a gift which I thought was going to be some contraband Brazilian beer that they kept in a cooler in their room. This time, on top of the beer and the delicious chicken and rice that they cooked especially for me, they had also bought me clothes! A tank top and a pair of shorts the colors of the Brazilian flag that I love. I was overwhelmed with their kindness. After that, we sat down and had dinner together and everyone gave me their contact information for when, in their words, I go back to Brazil I will have places to stay, food, free Portuguese lessons and a husband should I wish to marry. They were by far my favorite guests and already, it's not the same without them...

Jamie - Jamie is a hippie with a big bushy beard who bears a striking resemblance in both appearance and personality to my friend Matty. He's from California, but has been working on South American cruise-ships as a musician for the past 3 years and as he will be the first to tell you, it sounds way more glamourous than it actually is. Still, I'm fascinated.

Besides my roommates, I haven't met many people from the United States here, so it's oddly familiar to talk about stuff from home and have someone know exactly what I'm referring to. Yesterday, after meeting some of Jamie's friends who were in Montevideo for the 4 short hours their boat was docked, we went to Plaza Independencia with intentions of napping. Instead, we laid on our backs, staring at the clouds and reminisced about food from home.

I started with something like, "You know what would be great right now? An iced coffee."

"They don't have that here?"

"If they do it has ice cream in it and it costs $7 and it's definitely not available for take-out."

"I could go for some Chinese food."

"Yeah, or Mexican food. Or anything spicy, goddamn Uruguayans and their intolerance for for anything hotter than table pepper."

"Meatball sub."

"Italian hoagie."

"Real pizza."

"Can I please just dip my entire hand into a jar of peanut butter?"

I really don't get homesick here too often, but this was bad. And sorry family and friends, but yesterday was all about Distrito, the hand-drawn noodle house and Wawa.

My co-workers - Obviously, you already know about Cristina, my langauge exchange partner. There's also Georgina who is young and adorable and dramatic. She laughs at me all the time for my Spanish and her favorite joke is that I no matter what someone says to me, my response is always, "Sí, gracias!!"

Fati is the maintenance guy who works like 10-hour days so he's always around. We drink mate together every day and on Saturdays, he cooks asado for the hostel and makes me extra chorizo.

Martin, pronounced Mar-teen, has been mentioned before in previous posts. He's cute and I think that's all you need to know.

Tincho is my boss and he calls me Fran which I hate and he knows it. When we have meetings about the bar, he speaks to me in Spanish and I speak to him in English because we're both lazy.

Martin & Georgina

There's many others like Guido, an adorable, mild-mannered Argentinian who stayed for a week-and-a-half for a summer class. At first, I ordered him to speak to me in Spanish. Later on, though, I heard him use the word "dispute" and I realized how good his English was. From then on, it was English all the way. There was Oliver, a Canadian who's living in Buenos Aires for the time being but has also lived in Korea and is going home to the Cayman Islands in a few weeks. And Carlos, a Uruguyan who lived in Wisconsin, was with me when I got robbed and bought me a rose when I was in tears on the sidewalk.

The list could go on and on and the grand majority of the people are absolutely fantastic. Even the ones that aren't so great can be pretty funny to get to know, like Jim, a Scot who had lived in Australia for 27 years. He liked to stand up and lecture, essentially holding court in the middle of the patio for anyone who would listen. He interrupted people and hung out behind my bar giving Martin glass after glass of wine, while standing directly in my way and never offering me a drop.

Sometimes I'm tired, sometimes it's hard to leave the beach, but always I am happy to get to my low-stress, highly entertaining job. It's "buena onda," good vibes. There's music, beer, food and a constant flow of interesting people. And as all of you know, I may not be making any cash, but am sure am having a hell of a time.

face to face

I have to admit, I was a little upset when the cute guy at my work got moved to the morning shift, but in the end, I think it worked out for the better. He has been replaced with a girl from Spain, Cristina, who has moved here to be with her boyfriend. Last week, she asked me the best question in the world, one that I have been waiting for, second only to "do you want me to give you some money?" and that was if I wanted to do what she called a face-to-face, which I came to understand is a language exchange.

I was so excited, because I have been looking for a language exchange partner and my search has been fruitless. Well, I did meet with a boy a few weeks ago, but his English was really good so we ended up speaking that the whole time. And I thought he was pretty cute too, which makes it harder to put yourself out there, make mistakes and sound like a fool. Anyway, Cristina lived in Ireland for a while so her English is not bad, but she's similar to me in that we are a both self-described lazy learners. In order to motivate each other, we decided to meet everyday and spend an hour speaking each language. Because we are both expats and have nothing better to do, we got right to it and started the very next day. It was fabulous. She is patient and smart and explains things very clearly. It's a great set-up because there's no money involved. We're just going to take turns hosting each other and cooking. It's also amazing because we can continue practicing together during work. I am so pleased with this I cannot even tell you. I am really happy to have something to fill my days and I know a whole month of this will be really great for my language.

the right place

Tengo ganas to blog today, but I have no idea what to write about so I am just going to do some freestyle here and hope something worthwhile comes out...

Funny thing I learned the other day - While I was counting my measly pesos and trying to think of quick scheme to, I don't know, make about $7 so I could go out and still afford to take the bus home, talk was quickly turned to the oldest profession in the world. This prompted me to do a little research and by research I mean I asked a few of the Uruguayans around my hostel for the going rate on a first-class hooker. Turns out, a good BJ only goes for $100 pesos ($5). Cheap labor is an understatement.

I guess you can tell by the fact that I walk around work asking people how much happy endings costs, that I am pretty comfortable with my job. It's true. I love it. The people I work with are great. The people that stay in the hostel are great, for the most part. And even if they're not so great, they are out my life in 1-3 days on average. Almost everyone speaks to me in English there, except for the crazy Brazilians guys who are staying for the whole month of January who jabber at me in Portuguese and Fati, the maintenance guy who doesn't speak a lick of English, except for the handy phrase I taught him the other day "you are the girl of my dreams." He's my favorite to talk to because he's really patient with me, only makes a few corrections and I never feel embarrassed.

I talked to one of my best friends yesterday and it was so good to hear his voice. I know I'm definitely not ready to give up my breezy days of sleeping 'til noon, heading to the beach, then bartending in a open court yard and getting paid to talk to people just yet. But it did bring out the slightest bit of homesickness and made me really excited for my return in April. I know by then I'll be ready, at least for long enough to save up for the next adventure. Rendezvous in Spain, right Matty?

I also talked to Tori yesterday. I can't freaking believe it's been a month since we cried over our last meal together. Not having her here is bizarre. Sometimes I look at our photos and am still unable to believe where we were and what we were doing only a few months ago.

In contrast to the running around, right now I am calm and slow. It's a nice pace, but I don't think I could do it forever. I'm still frustrated with my language, but I got some pretty good advice from a Canadian, believe it or not, to just relax and do what I can. I know it sounds pretty simple, but it was nice to be reminded that I am doing this for the process, the experience, and it feels so much better to take the pressure off of myself. In the beginning I thought that I would for sure come back at least on the track to fluency, but that's not going to be the case. This is something that may take my whole life to get where I want to be and I will keep at it because it's something that I want and something that I enjoy. My living and working situations right now just aren't conducive to my progress the way conditions were in October. I'm not having crazy dreams, I am not sleeping 12 hours a night cause my brain is on overdrive.

For now though, I'm happy and relaxed. Even working 48 hours a week. Carnival is coming up soon, which is crazy because I never used to picture myself still here for it. And... you know what else is rising? PAY DAY! Life is good.

mira mi sonrisa

Getting letters like this absolutely makes my day. This one, from a college friend, literally made me cry. I know a lot of people think what I am doing is silly and just putting off the inevitable but I also now know a lot more people admire my choices and even though I know I am exactly where I need to be right now, it feels so fantastic to have support of the people I love.

"Hiiii!!!!! First off let me say I miss you sooo much!!! It has been way too many months which is hard to get used to after college! I just wanted to send you a message because I just got caught up on reading your blog, which is so entertaining!!! I look forward to reading it every time you update. I wanted to message you though because a common theme is how you seem frustrated because you still have the language barrier and aren't completely comfortable and I wanted to hopefully give you some perspective from someone else. I remember during college when you told me how you admired me leaving Maryland and going somewhere new for college and you just stayed in pennsylvania and believe me, whatever you felt then is magnified by a million of how I feel for you. You have done what I can only dream of doing and I am in awe of you and truly jealous that you have accomplished what I probably never will. You have picked up and changed your life by moving to another country for a period of time, integrating yourself with a country and lifestyle that is a complete opposite of what you are used to. You are not only immersing yourself with the culture but you got a job!!!!! Whenever you feel inadequate just look back and see what you have accomplished and that far far outweighs anything that you lack. I could not say it enough that I am in awe of you and I really can't even put in to words how much I admire what you are doing. Again, you are doing what I only wish I could. What many people only wish they could. Your blogs bring me closer to that and I completely mean it when I say that reading them often makes my day. Your writing gives me hope and inspiration that one day I can have even a little bit of what you have done and seen during these past few months. You are so hard on yourself and I just wanted to tell you to step back and see yourself from anothers view and how you inspire confidence and are an inspiration. Out of anyone I met at Drexel you are doing the most and you have come the furthest and I am so proud and happy to know you. So be safe, remember your accomplishments, and I love and miss you!!"

This other one, from a girl who I met very briefly had the same effect. She was traveling in South America a few years ago and met a Uruguayan, who is now her husband.

"Thanks for dinner last night. It was great to catch up. I think you are all on a fantastic track. Rafael always talks about how important it is for Americans to travel and live outside the country to realize how fortunate we have it. After we left he was complementing you all for living here and hard as it may be at times with language, money, new friendships, etc, you really are challenging yourselves to learn, grow, and get a new perspective on life. An experience that most Americans never step outside the box to get. So, way to go....enjoy the ups and downs as they come. :)"

Thank you ladies!!!!!

fool me once, shame on you

Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me three times, maybe it’s time I go home.

Since I last wrote I’ve had a series of highs and lows. First the good news – the job is going really well. I’m still poor as dirt, but I’m already comfortable and I’ve made some new friends. Every weekend, we have a little fiesta at the hostal, grab some tourists and take them out with us. From what I’ve seen so far, Martin makes a little game by picking a different one each week to make out with. (Job perks?) Anyway, we went out this past Friday and guess what? I got robbed… again. After one blissful week of unlimited cell phone use, I have now been hurtled back to an almost non-existent social life. And they took my money, but good thing I had already paid my rent, went grocery shopping and bought a beer leaving the ladron with about $4, which was all of my money for the rest of the month. I hope (s)he was pissed. Emily, my roommate won’t admit that this is the 3rd time I’ve gotten robbed so I guess it’s up for debate. Let me give you a rundown.

1. First time, pick-pocketed on the subway in Buenos Aires. Tori was technically holding the bag, but my stuff was in it as well. Neither of realized until we got off at the next stop.

2. I put my camera on a table at the New Year’s party we crashed and when I went back up to get it, it was gone. Stupidity, yes. But if it wasn’t taken (robbed), it would have still been there, right?

3. Dancing at a disco, I realized my $4 and crappy cell phone were gone when I went outside to get some air and the trusty Budweiser fanny pack was gaping open. Oddly enough, my ipod was still inside. This resulted in me sitting on the sidewalk in tears and ranting about how I was getting on the next plane back to Philadelphia.

I just felt so stupid for having been taken for a fool, three times in South America in the time span of one month. But, as a friend who lived in Peru for three years said to me before I left, “Yeah, you’ll definitely want to bring your computer, because you’re going to miss all your music when your ipod gets stolen.” So I guess it’s just part of the adventure. I haven’t been hurt (physically) and I still have my passport. And ipod, but that will probably get taken in Bolivia.

what's better?

After working 6 days in a row, today is my first descanzo. It's been an interesting week. Everyday, I started my shift by going to the three supermarkets within walking distance from us only to realize that not one of them has ice or limes. This is something I've learned is very typical of South America, because too bad if you need tomatoes for a pasta sauce or want cucumbers in your salad. You've got to work with what is fresh, what the market was able to get and what they decided to sell that day.

Some other highlights include my co-workers and I rounding up tourists and taking them out to party until 6am, watching Face/Off in the living room when there was absolutely nothing to do and meeting these crazy Irish whom I watched in amazement down more than a dozen 32oz bottles of beer that I let them sneak in as contraband under the condition that I could keep the bottles. Last night, as I was walking home (looking like a hobo laden with Budweiser bottles), simultaneously trying to keep the circulation going in my hands and adding up all the money they were going to make me, I got a text from Martin telling me to bring my passport on Tuesday.

I had been waiting for this as I haven't yet done anything remotely official in regards to this job. I was totally fine being under the radar as I'm only planning to be there for 2 months and I obviously prefer to be paid in cash, but apparently, they have other plans for me. And these other plans include, wait for it... health insurance! This absolutely blew my mind. In the states, I know bartenders who have worked for the same company for years and years and health insurance is something that will never be on the table and here I am, a tourist in Uruguay who may only be making $1.50/hour, but is covered. And on top of that, I earn a one and a half paid vacation days a month.

In reality, I'm not quite sure how I feel about this. No that's not true. I am happy for all the Uruguayans who can work any type of job and receive benefits right away. But at this point, in which I'm totally excited to find half a peso on the floor of the supermarket, my poor ass would rather have the extra cash.

this week - onions on sale!!!!

I hate being the cheap person. It kills me. If you know me at all, you know that I overtip. I forget about money that I have hidden in my room or the pocket of some pair of jeans in the back of my closet. I drop more than necessary on shoes, meals, travel. I get overly annoyed at check disputes, the way people circle and divide up what exactly what it was that they ate. "Well, I only drank one glass out of that bottle of wine and I wouldn't have even ordered that appetizer if you hadn't said that you were going to take a bite out of it. I'll put $17.29 on my card and you can pay $20.94 and then we'll tip as little as possible." (Penn kids, just sayin'.)

I have been trained to see money as something so fluid, that comes and goes and not having it can be quickly solved by picking up an extra shift. Minor debts can be made up easily. Want something? Work harder. No need to watch what you spend - Work more to make more to spend more. My school of thought on money is clearly in direct correlation with the amount of time that I have spent working in the restaurant industry. It's amazing how this profession can in the exact same vein bring out the upmost generosity in a person and simultaneously the ugliest greed. Ex- "I had 4 beers, how much do I owe? Ah, fuck it, I only have 20s. Here's $60." and "What a shitty night, I can't believe I didn't break $300 on a Saturday!" These are actual quotes by the way. Tim Kirkland, thank you very much.

Now, for the first time since I started working when I was 15, I am scraping and scrounging coins and having to make the difficult decision between a McDonald's dulce de leche sundae or a bus ride to work. (If I eat the sundae, I'll have energy to walk to work, right?)