Live From the Red Carpet...

The expat community came through... 10 minutes ago the phone rang...turn to channel 49 was the message. I was just in time to hear Forrest Whitaker. Now Eddie Murphy is on...followed by Kate Winslet. Oh, there is Meryl Streep in the background... I love her! And now Queen Latif who is presenting with John Travolta. I am so looking forward to hearing Ellen as host for the evening. On TNT (the dubbed spanish version) the carpet walk was in Spanish but at that point it was making sense since the interviewees were Jenifer Lopez, Penelope Cruz, etc. And when sipping Malbec anything (or just about anything) makes sense. I have to say though that I am wondering about this Litle Miss Sunshine for best picture!?!

This is the culmination of a great day of culture. Walking this morning in Parque 3 de Febrero, the home of the yoga and salsa classes, I heard the Buenos Aires Symphony. That was a treat! Then this afternoon it was a visit to Museo de Bellas Artes... The exhibit on the first floor was fabulous...Chagall, Miro, Kandinsky, Rivera, Rodin, Monet, Cezanne, Renoir....Must I really leave?

Did they really just say two hours to showtime... that must be a mistake. It is 10:00PM here. Hope you are enjoying the red carpet walk and chatter about the gorgeous gowns with me!!!

Los Oscars..

The message signal was blinking..."Hi this is Stan. Gabriel asked me to check on the Oscars for you. He said you wanted to watch them in English. I saw a promo on Corrientes that said they would be aired on TNT. I don't know if that is in English. I posted a message on Craigs List to see if someone knows more. There has to be an Expats bar around that is showing them. Call me."

So you wonder, if she watched the Super Bowl in Spanish why can't she watch the Oscars in Spanish. I mean WHAT is with her, she is so into this immersion thing. Well let me tell you, it is a totally different experience. Been there, done that!

Last year I made a big deal out of it....had some people at my place...served Malbec. (Yes, I can get TNT on my cable.) We were ready. The read carpet appears and seconds into the dialog in English it is dubbed. That's right...no subtitles...The Oscars were dubbed in Spanish. This was impossible...neither the English nor the Spanish were clear. Even the Argentine in the group had trouble. Can you imagine Jon Stewart speaking Spanish?

Ok, Craigs List...show me what you got. My mission this weekend ... a location to view Los Oscars in English.

El Consulado de Bolivia en La Republica Argentina...

"Yes, you can travel to Potosi. When you reach La Quiaca in Argentina just walk across the border to Villazon. Catch a bus there."

"Ok," I say. "And how much time in transit from Villazon to Potosi?"

"Oh, about twelve hours. But sometimes the busses are late. Or sometimes they break down. And in the rainy season, which is now, sometimes the roads are impassable. Most are not paved. But it is a twelve hour trip according to the schedule. "

"Yes", I say. "And I will be traveling from Salta, in the north, to the border. I believe that trip is five hours."

"The Argentine roads are paved. You should have no trouble."

And then I ask..."So once I arrive. Can I fly home (back to Buenos Aires)?"

El Consulado says..."Sure, You can fly from Santa Cruz."

"Oh", I say. "And how far is Santa Cruz from Potosi?"

He says, "That is about 12 hours. But sometimes the busses are late. Or sometimes they break down. Or sometimes during the rainy season the roads are impassable. Most are not paved. But it is a twelve hour trip according to the schedule."

I ask..."There is no closer airport?"

"You may be able to fly from Sucre which is just two or three hours from Potosi...depending on the busses and the roads. You will have to check the internet."

So back at the ranch I check. Yes, one can fly from Sucre to Buenos Aires. The route is Sucre to Cochabamba, Cochabamba to LaPaz, La Paz to Santa Cruz. Santa Cruz to Buenos Aires. Approximately 22 hours after boarding the plane in Sucre one lands at Ezeiza airport Buenos Aires. Of course, that is the trip according to the schedule. But sometimes the planes are late or they break down. Or sometimes during the rainy season....

This is the saga of potential travels to Bolivia.

La Telenovela...

It was my body that spoke loudest of his absence. Could I wait any longer for his touch? I ached and longed for that familiar strength. It won't be the same but I must seek comfort elsewhere....

I know, it sounds like I have changed careers and am now writing script for telenovelas (soap opras) in Buenos Aires or that I have truly surrendered to the sensuality of this land. The truth be known, the ache is in my hamstrings, and the reality is the hands I miss are those of my massage therapist, (you know who you are). So tomorrow night I will be in the hands of another. At least I showed some restraint. I waited for the master to return from vacation. His expertise is deep tissue...Bio-Energetico...the promo reads "Aplica principios derivados de la kinesiologia con el proposito de reestablecer un balance a nivel corporal, mental, energetico y espiritual." Bottom line is I hope to float home tomorrow night after an hour in his presence.

Paseaperros, Piropos, Pregnancy...

What do these have in common you may ask? Aside from the fact that they all begin with a P, though I did have to be bilingual to make that happen, the connection is largely in my mind. This is just a bit of my free-associating as I walked the streets alone this morning and took in the view. I am often amazed by number of dogs but even more amazing is the paseaperro (professional dog walker). It is not uncommon to see him, and for the most part they are male, leading 10-12 dogs on their daily walk. They are all sizes. The big ones are tripping over the little ones. But they are all on the same mission; exercise & relief. They all have a similiar destination; open space. It is truly a sight to see, especially when several paseaperros pass each other on the crowded streets.

Walking behind a paseaperro leading many exceptionally large dogs I am contemplating the best way to pass when I hear a piropo from a man standing to my right. A piropo is an appreciative comment by a man ranging from poetic to vulgar. The benefit of the language challenge for me is that I am not always sure what has been said which makes it all the easier to ignore. Then I make the leap in my mind to pregnancy, perhaps because that is where I am thinking that some piropos lead. But probably it is more because one of those beautiful pregnant women has just crossed my path. Clearly in the last term of her pregnancy she wears a tight fitting top, flowing skirt, and midriff exposed. They really know how to strutt their stuff!!

Uno, Dos, Tres...Cinco, Seis, Siete....

What? What happened to cuatro???? Oh cuatro is when you turn. Now I get it! Seven northamerican sweethearts learning salsa in the southern hemisphere. What beter way to celebrate the eve of el dia de los enamorados, Valentines Day. The very large dance floor at Azucar, the hottest place to salsa in Buenos Aires, was packed. And we were in the thick of it. Did I tell you I am leading a retreat here this year? Yes, I believe I did. Six women with me discovering the energy of this city. So we often move in a pack and create quite a stir as we go. Last night was no exception!

I remembered going to this club once a couple years ago but didn't get into it then. I was still carrying this fantasy of mastering tango. This year is different. There are some new moves I am going to have to pick up while here. I think I will forget about tango for awhile and head to Azucar regulary. For five pesos a class I may be able to loosen these hips for real. That's the plan...Yoga by day...Salsa by night!

Six degrees of separation...

They wrote..."travel tales are best when the human psyche interfaces with the immensity of the world's physicality." What poetic words to read in reponse to the blog entry on Iguazu. The authors, Tim and Dixie, traveled in memory to their own breathtaking view of Foz do Iguacu. What? Did they say March 4, of 05? Could it be? I must go back to my travel log. It is possible that we were standing together in awe at the same hour. Yes, it was March of 05 that I traveled across the border into Brazil to experience these incredible falls. Once more I am made aware of our proximity to one another. Tim and Dixie, activists in the Benton Harbor arts community, neighbors, friends, share my passion for wandering in the world. And it is quite possible that we were wandering together thousands of miles from our home at the same point in time...six degrees of separation.

Espectaculo...

Translated that is spectacle and the word for a theater performance. How apropos for the spectacle last night...La Tanguera... the musical-dance story of Argentine immigrants at the warfs and in the barrios of Buenos Aires. They told of their hopes arriving in a new land from countries throughout Europe. The sensuality was at a peak when they told of their struggle through the tango. I am thinking.... Are their legs truly attached to their bodies? Is there anything that I have seen so beautiful and captivating? Could I ever move my body with such agility? One of the most famed dancers, in her 70s has legs to die for and led the group at the encore with the words... "Let's go boys... kids!" I thought, "yes, that is exactly the model I hold for aging and my vision for my 70s!"

Hey... Follow Me...

The world community responds to words that evoke memories deep in the heart. This morning I opened my mail and read a message from Sweet who has been following my blog. He is a friend of a young woman who I consider one of my nieces, Sarah, who now lives in Denver. She and I share twenty plus years of history. Sweet tells me he studied in Mendoza as a college student and remembered a magical moment when an Argentine woman looked in his eyes and melodically sang those words..."me encanta". Compliments of Sweet I share with you Iguazu, one of the wonders of the world which brought back incredible memories for me. I remember the spell these falls cast on me when viewing from both the Argentine and Brazilian frontier!

Me encanto...

I am enchanted. Don't those words just make you swoon. When the Argentine is pleased, I mean really pleased, those are the words they use to express that pleasure. I am back to the issue of psychotherapy from the Argentine versus Northamerican perspective. The day after the first of the group arrived I took a break to prepare for the beginning of the retreat and the energy necessary to facilitate a group of 6 women. A gift to myself was the manicure at la peluqueria down the street. As I described the retreat she smiled and sang the words "me encanto". Then launched into her own story about a recent operation, her fear, her pending appointment with an analyst, her thought that many physical illnesses have their genesis in the mind and that she believed currently her pains stemmed from her thoughts. I couldn't help but contrast her delight in going to the therapist from my earlier commentary about the northamerican perspective and some of the fears that were already emerging from those here for the retreat.

There is something about the deep self revelation that the Argentine craves. Enroute to the airport yesterday to meet the last of the group arrivals I had a conversation with the driver, currently separated, struggling, close to tears, and curious also about the retreat. "Estoy seguro que sus patientes la quieren." I am sure your patients love you. "Esta buena gente, puedo verlo en su cara." You are a good person, I can see it in your face. Truly, he wasn't flirting. I know the difference. He was just enchanted with the connection. Me encantao...I am enchanted.

The Tour Guide...Facilitator...Go For

Yes, the Remiss service arrived promptly though they never did answer the phone. However time was spent in needless northamerican worry. Standing at International Arrivals while watching those coming from Rome, Madrid, Sao Paolo, London, Miami, Atlanta make their way out of customs to the waiting crowd, the kisses, hugs, screams, tears all brought tears to my eyes. I was swept into those moments of reconnecting between loved ones. And there was some difference in the way people entered the scene that had a bit of a cultural hint to it. I am sure you know what I am about to say but those coming from Rome, Madrid, Sao Paolo or the latins from Miami were more demonstrative.

Standing, waiting, I am thinking..."oh, I should have brought a sign with their names...I could have schmaltzed it up a bit... pictures... yes, pictures of the arrival." Alas, what each received was just me with a big kiss, hug, and warm welcome. And since the arrivals yesterday were all in from Michigan or Chicago, WARM welcome was the most important. I reassured myself that was enough.

Though the actual retreat experience doesn't begin until Thursday when I am truly on, I was aware of wanting to assist in anyway possible on day one to ease entry. This may have been more for me than them. I found myself feeling proud of this land, wanting to share my delight, wanting to see the excitement in their eyes seeing for the first time what have become familiar sights to me. Though questions were asked that I could not answer there were many queries to which I could respond comfortably.

As tour guide I thought about Maslow's hierarchy and went about the business of meeting those needs. Shelter ... I escorted each to her apartment. Food (and wine...did Maslow forget wine in his hierarchy???)...this meant a trip to Puerto Madero's La Parolaccia for lunch. Clothing...It was a walk down Florida, past the Galerias Pacifica...to point out the best places to shop. And back to Food again... I couldn't imagine not stocking up on staples (which includes wine) at the local grocery store. Throughout the day I was, as la terapeuta, thinking about belonging, community, self esteem and how I could begin to foster those with the group. The self actualization part was for another day. I was tired and opted to stay home last night to conserve energy! It was time for those interested to venture out and experience Buenos Aires nightlife on their own.

Final preparations... a northamerican's perspective

Last night I am checking into the additional apartment for the group's arrival. It is late and the last minute details a bit more complicated when you do not know the system. Is it necessary to change the locks? I mean this is a short term rental apartment, like weekly. Do they do this every time? I wonder. I contracted with a remiss service for transportation to and from the airport. Again a bit complicated because I will need two cars arriving an hour apart. They give me a card with their number that says 24 hour service, smile, and say call anytime. I just called to confirm and noone answered. Gabriela would smile at me and say "This is Argentina, mi querida (my dear)! You Americans..."

El beso de la mujer arana...

The kiss of the spider woman.... I never knew the author, Manuel Puig, was Argentine and born in Buenos Aires. He died in Cuernavaca, Mexico in 1990. He is considered one of Argentina's most important contemporary authors. And "The Kiss of Spider Woman", published in 1976, is considered one of his best novels. The director, Hector Babenco, brought this work to life on the screen. This book is the focus of my studies now. Reading in Spanish, I am continually told by mi profesora, is the best way to advance at this stage. Frankly, I would rather watch Raul Julia "weave" the tale.

The Super Bowl in Spanish!!!

What is wrong with this picture... the Super Bowl in Spanish, surrounded by none of my usual suspects, and the Bears lose?! Tell me, what gives?

Los Infiltrados

Last night I saw "The Departed", entitled "Los Infiltrados" in Argentina. They change the titles of the movies here and cut to the chase. Doesn't that make more sense...Los Infiltrados... The Infiltrators. Of course it does. Makes me wonder what The Departed means. Last year I saw "Secretos en las Montanas". You got it "Brokeback Mountain". See what I mean!

Life's Contradictions...

There is an international sign that indicates it is safe to cross the street, right? The light turns green, then the man in the little box next to the light become illuminated in white or green and his legs are in motion as if he is moving at a normal pace. Well that fits here as long as there is not the possibility of traffic turning into the intersection. Truly the picture of that man should be running and dodging cars enroute to the saftey of the opposite curb. There seems to be no spanish translation for "yield to pedestrians"! On the other hand as I walk the streets, safe from the intersection, I observe those waiting for the bus. They queue up in very orderly lines, generally a foot between each person, waiting patiently for the arrival of the bus. Then they enter the bus slowly. Sometimes those queues can be a block long. There is no pushing, no hurry. What transformation takes place when the Argentine is behind the wheel? Life is full of contradictions.

Vida Natural

Spent part of the morning at Vida Natural, Centro de Yoga y Arte. The class was Iyengar. "Floja sus hombros." Oh! That's what you meant. "Relax your shoulders." I just didn't understand the Spanish command. It is not like my shoulders are tight or anything like that. Yea, right, Maureen . I can hear you say. That was the morning after a lunch at Bio in Palermo. The appetizer...Berenjenjas grilladas a la crema de tofu y albahaca (grilled eggplant with tofu and basil cream), was followed by the entre...Tofu a la naranja y salvia con ensalada tibia de vegatales de estacion a la salsa de semillas de sesamo y timbal de arroz (orange tofu and salvia with tepid salad of seasonal vegetables topped with sesame seed sauce and rice kettledrum.) And you thought I was hanging with the gauchos consuming carne!!!