comida -¿hay otra cosa?

Interesting as it is to see what a family from another culture eats like, I feel like there’s lard coming out of my pores.
We eat good food here, and there’s definitely always enough for me (at points I’ve literally had to defend my plate with my fork to prevent Lili from spooning more onto it) but I want my veggies, damnit! And I’m not exactly a vegan or a health food nut (although I suppose that depends on your definition of health food nut). There’s usually meat and potatoes in something in every dinner, and I’m pretty sure that when Lili lets her brain stop running the automatic filler is for her to say “Hay pollo, ¿sabes?” [There’s chicken, you know!] – because there is. Always.
This isn't just a complaint about my host family (I shouldn't complain at all, really: they buy me cake at random); this country in general does not value its greens.

¡Miravos el queso!

I’ve been noticing lately that people often ask each other what they ate. I feel like this would be Awkward Small Talk in the U.S., but my host mother or the random girls trying on clothes in the fitting room next to mine seem genuinely interested in whether it was spinach ravioli or cheese someone else had for dinner yesterday, and who cooked it, and what kind of sauce was on it. Good grief.

Parrilla en la Feria de Mataderos. I think the smell would have been much more expressive than this picture.

You can get nearly everything delivered, from ice cream to sushi to alcohol to a fresh cup of coffee in a ceramic cup, poured in front of you. This is probably the reason that I haven’t seen anyone eating while walking (unless you count mate – thermos and all – and the amount that Argentines carry mate around is nothing compared to the Uruguayans). It isn’t uncommon to see the occasional waiter with a covered tray popping out of a café, though, or to have to dodge the food delivery scooters when they decide the sidewalk is the faster route, pedestrians be damned. Food is not for ‘on the go,’ it’s to sit down and enjoy!

This is the chivito uruguayo. It contains: a hamburger patty, a slice of cheese, bacon, and an egg. (Plus bread, ketchup, mustard, and a single piece of lettuce… and corn or mayo if you want it). I can feel the cholesterol attack from here.

I’d be willing to bet Argentina’s cholesterol levels aren’t great, as a country. I’m not saying they eat unhealthily, despite their love of meat and their propensity to stuff dulce de leche into everything. I imagine the average American doesn’t eat that well either, and, well, we all survive without being ‘foodies’. One thing I’ve realized, being here, is that my family at home eats really, really well (and yes, I am unreasonably smug about it). But I suspect that Argentines enjoy their food more, in general, than Americans do.

Alfajorjito.

Damn. Now I’m hungry. I’ll have to fill up on empanadas and medialunas and alfajores before I leave; those are something I’ll really miss.

Personajes de Argentina: los mujeres

Mafalda

"Lo malo de la gran familia humana es que todos quieren ser el padre."

Someone described her to me as the “Argentine Charlie Brown, only more political.” She’s pretty cute, and shows up around town on kioskos or the Subte.
Her author is Quino, who stopped producing Mafalda comics in 1973 and moved to Milan (hmm, I wonder why?)


Evita

You could write a novel about just what happened to this woman’s corpse, so I’m not quite sure how to sum her up other than slapping on a big ‘Controversial!’ label. Born an illegitimate child in poverty, former showgirl and radio star, wife to the first and most influential dictator Perón, fought for women’s suffrage and worker’s rights, died young from cancer in 1952; her body ended up in the ritzy Cemeterio Recoleta (I went for a visit) and the leftists during/before the Guerra Sucia of the 70s used her image as a banner – instead of that of the still-living Perón’s second wife Isabel. Oh, dear.


One week until the program's over, most of my friends here have gone, and my family arrives; two more weeks in Buenos Aires; one month until I get back to Montana and all its American-ness; two months until I arrive at Wes once again. What a semester!

(pero mi querida, todavia creo en vos)

Photos from yesterday afternoon:

("During the Argentina games, 30% off").

Folding up the flag.

Consolement (the best kind).

Me too.

Happy 4th!

Personajes de Argentina: los futbolistas

I've got some Argentina personalities for you to meet!
The list includes three Santas, two soccer players, one cartoon character, and one equivalent of Paris Hilton; it got a bit long so I'll start with one saint and two soccer players.

Diego Maradona

Here’s a general video of his futbol feats, with song by the marvelous Mano Negra (to whom you should listen even if sports bore you).



His biggest accomplishments: this spectacular goal against England in 1986 (Mundial, quarterfinal match). Side note: Malvinas war? 1983. (Also re-start of democracy). Of course Argentina would make a national hero of anyone who’d put the English down a little.

And then, what he later called the ‘Hand of God’ goal – made in the same game, the referee never caught it.

Named one of two ‘futbolistas del siglo,’ there seems to be nothing this man can do to bungle his own popularity. And oh boy has he tried – cocaine, alcohol, illegitimate children he refuses to acknowledge, relations with the mafia in Naples, relations with Fidel Castro, Hugo Chavez, and the military dictatorships here in the 70s. Swearing at journalists or running over their feet with his car (no, really), and now a relationship with a much younger woman who ‘spontaneously aborted’ when it was discovered she was pregnant…


Well, this year he’s coaching the Argentine team, and the cameras make sure to cut to him any time anything interesting happens on the field, because he’ll be glowering or waving his arms around or tackle-hugging people (in a manly way, of course). He’s promised (threatened?) to go run naked in the streets of Buenos Aires if Argentina wins. I guess it’s rebellion against that suit his daughters convinced him to wear.

Lionel Messi


Currently suffering under the title of the ‘New Maradona,’ he's the star of the Argentine Mundial selection this year (though Higuain and Tevez are doing pretty well for themselves, too). There are rumors flying right now that he has a cold – and if I, in my eh-sports and language bubble, have heard of this, you can imagine what a big deal futbol is here. The country literally stops for the games – there’s a law that federal employees must be allowed to watch Argentina games. I don’t even need to watch to know the score, just count how many times the city has erupted with horns and yells. There was a man singing and throwing confetti off his balcony after Argentina won against Greece, and after Portugal lost to Spain I heard two separate people enquiring the results of strangers on the street. Versus Germany tomorrow should be an exciting game.

Back to Messi – he plays for Barcelona, and they call him ‘Pulga’ – flea – because he’s just little (and seems to get knocked down a lot by the bigger players), but oh man can he handle the ball. Maradona seems to alternately treat him like the favorite and a scapegoat – probably jealous of the attention.

That is quite enough of futbol. The excitement is infectious, though - chau chau, y VAMOS ARGENTINA!!