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?)

the subject i know you are all dying to know about

me at my hostal and yes, I can wear this to work

Okay, so I've had 3 days of the job so far. And it's getting better. Thank God. Although I am unable to help everybody who comes to me with questions, (either because of the language or because of my slightly more than cursory knowledge of Montevideo) I can successfully make a reservation in Spanish, show them their room, tell them where the bathroom is, that breakfast is included and give them a basic overview of the city. YESSSS!!!!

My position is unique and changes pretty much every day. Yesterday, I got there at 6pm and worked reception until 8, when they told me to open the bar, which is really nothing more than a cupboard with one stool in front of it. Pretty much everything I would need apart from my knife, including running water and the fridge are across the patio that my bar is situated. But it's mine and I pretty much get to make all the decisions regarding it. Keep in mind the cocktail culture here is that of possibly 1991 in the United States as most bars feature Sex on the Beaches and Screwdrivers and some sort of unnatural-colored flaming shot on the menu. When I asked for triple-sec, the response was a blank stare.

So, with my elementary bar experience, (I worked the bar at my first restaurant job in Philly 4 years ago and I drink a lot) I have essentially become the bar manager. Last night, upon my boss's suggestion, we gave out free caipirinhas and who doesn't love a free drink or a bartender who gives them out? Nobody, obviously, which was made evident by the whole $1.50 in tips I made, which I was totally jazzed about by the way.

Which brings me to money... It is more than common for people to get paid by the month in Uruguay, a huge shock for a girl who's used to making cash every single night. My monthly salary - $7,000 (pesos) plus something to do with a possible percentage of sales that I'm pretty positive I won't make and we can't forget about those tips. Allow me translate that - $350 (dollars) a month, for 48 hours a week. Yes, that means that I have on more than one occasion made my Uruguayan monthly salary in one night in a Philadelphia restaurant. I was able to convince my boss for an advance which disappeared before you could say rent, groceries and one cab ride home. Big splurge!

All this talk about South America being dirt cheap, yeah, that's only when you have American dollars to throw around. Working here and living here is a totally different story. By the way, after doing a little research I have become aware that my salary is right on target with what actual Montevideoans are making and as such, most of them work two or three jobs. AHH! My first really personal experience as a big city girl in the third world country. And I'm going to try to keep it up for 2 whole months. I will not be traveling. I will not be going out to dinner. I will for sure be collecting the beer bottles that those rich tourists leave behind so I can recycle them at the Disco across the street from me (worth 50 cents each!!!)

Luckily for me, at the end of this, I have some more travel plans including my mom coming to see me in March, visiting my first South American friends in Paraguay, Bolivia with Josh, Trinidad with Ian and a stop in Florida, all ending in Philly where I can quickly bounce back. For now, though, an unexpected experiment that stems from me getting robbed in Buenos Aires (still no atm card). I definitely believe that things happen for a reason and now maybe this is it. After two months of a total indulgent lifestyle with Tori, (we stayed in hostals so we could go out for $100 dinners) I'm going to attempt to live on this measly salary and see what happens. Expect some future blog posts with titles like "I found a dollar on the ground today!"; "Onions on sale!"; or "Score! Another roll of toilet paper successfully taken from the Radisson!"

not only did i complete an interview in spanish - they actually hired me!!!!

As evident from the title of this post, I got a job! I will be working in a new hostal as a receptionist and a bartender. I start tomorrow, which is pretty exciting. After three months of doing whatever it is I feel like doing and two weeks of legendary laziness, tomorrow I actually have something to do, somewhere to be.

This optimistic title and first paragraph were written before I worked. Now, the morning after -

It was difficult. And very, very stressful. The actual job is pretty great. Check people in, answer questions, grab beers. When you don't have anything to do, you are supposed to go socialize. All fantastic. And after staying in hostals for two months, I know what information is important to people. I know what they need to hear, what they want to know. It's basic. It's customer service. It's what I excel in and what I really like to do. In a few hours, I pretty much mastered the computer system, which is strikingly similar to OpenTable (a restaurant reservation system that I have essentially had a love affair with for the last five years). However, even with all this know-how, there's this small thing called a language barrier that is hindering me from being as helpful, polite and funny as my personality in English allows me to be. The frustrating thing is that I would be really good at this job if I could switch my tongue as easily as my sexy co-worker Martín, who I saw speak German, English, Portuguese and of course, Spanish.

Yes, this opportunity should be excellent to develop my language skills, but I still don't feel like I'm at the point where I can easily pick up new vocab and get better every day just through practice. When I got there, Martín and I had the obligatory initial language scramble, in which the people involved in the conversation, through a mix of body language, translations and explanations search each other to find out if - my second language, Spanish, is better than the other person's second, third, fourth, fifth language, English. This is a game that I have played countless times since being in South America and one which I, more often than not, lose. So, I was trained in English. Guests would come in, speak in Spanish, I would do what I could, then turn to him and he would explain it to me in English, which seems absolutely preposterous to me. So, now after one day, I am wondering why it is exactly that I got hired so obviously unqualified for the job and when they're going to figure it out and give me the old boot.

And, just to rub a little salt in the wound, I haven't yet found out how much my hourly wage is. It's a phone conversation (which is sooo much harder, by the way) with a man who doesn't speak English that I'm putting off right now by writing this blog post.

I'm going to go ahead and agree with Abby on this one, "I really hate doing stuff that I'm not just.. good at." Right away. And now it's been three months. And sure there's improvement, but not enough. I don't understand when this celebrated "click" that I've heard so much about is going to occur. When I will stop translating Spanish to English and back to Spanish in my head, when words will just fall out of my mouth. When I will get over my fear and embarrassment. Learning a foreign language is by far, the hardest. thing. I. have. ever. done. in. my. entire. life. By comparison, after five years at Drexel, there was this big to-do that I'd done it, I graduated college! But honestly, I was challenged far less in that time that I have in the three months that I've been living down here. If and when this ever happens, it will by far be my greatest accomplishment.

One of the things Tori kept saying to me while she was here was that I need to stop being so hard on myself and I know she has reason, but it's so hard not to call myself stupid when for the 50th time, I make the same mistake, I falter, I forget a word that I know that I know, someone doesn't understand me or I don't understand them. Josh, another friend, who've I've mentioning a lot recently had also some other very kind and encouraging words for me.

"Moving to Uruguay, barely speaking Spanish, and getting by the way you have is truly impressive. I know you're frustrated by this job, but you got the job...that counts for something." and "I know its taking a long time to learn Spanish, but its going to." He reminded me that that's why I'm doing this. To be challenged. And for that, I guess it's going to feel extra amazing when my laborious efforts pay off.

For now though, one step at time. Phone call now, work tonight.

a person i barely knew became my saving grace in a strange city

A while ago, before I left to meet Tori in Brazil, I wrote about going out alone and meeting some couch-surfers and having a blast. One has since found a girlfriend which I guess means we can't be friends anymore, but the other, Santiago, has become my best friend in Montevideo. Throughout my trip, we kept in touch through the channel best used for keeping in touch, facebook. When I got back last week, he asked me to go to a meeting, which is basically just everyone involved getting together for a couple of beers and maybe some faina, this chickpea bready thing that's toasted, my new love in life.

Since I'm on a very strict budget until stupid TD gets me my atm card, I regretfully had to decline. I explained how I got robbed and told Santi we'd have to do it another time. This was his response...

"Sorry to hear that but I didn't ask if you have money. You know here we don't care about that, one beer is paid with another beer 'cause its just the excuse to get people togheter! :)
So I insist (more now knowing that u'd love to come out tonight!) I am working right now but at 8pm I'm out of here. from where do I've to pick u up?
:)"

I melted. And went out. And met more people - a girl from the states who's basically doing what I'm doing in Buenos Aires, a big Indian guy learning his 9th language and applying to MBA programs all over the world, a red-headed girl who lives in Montevideo and is politely patient with my demented 6-year-old Spanish. It was more than fantastic.

Two nights later, we went out again. In an effort to help with my language, Santi plopped me down in the middle of a conversation between 5 native Spanish speakers. My head was spinning. When I got lost, which was often, he'd translate.

So far, Santi is my only friend on couchsurfing.org and when he accepted my friendship, he had this to say.

"I met Francesca in a concert, she is friendly, athletic, funny and very nice person to have around. She have a big beautiful smile than make you trust in her from the very begining."

It's just so incredible to have living proof that there are still great people in this world. Santi has the biggest heart, this huge capacity to care for people and I am still in disbelief how he has opened his life to me like it's nothing. I don't even know how I can repay him for the beers, the friendship, the car rides, the conversation, etc. etc. etc. I just hope I can eventually bring something to this relationship.

At first I was hesitant of the couch-surfing project, but after these experiences it's impossible not to love. After only a week back here, I have a social life, friends, roots. I can't wait to have my own place again so I can host in Philadelphia. And, before that - Josh I hope you are ready to couch-surf through Bolivia!