You think you know Shults, but you have no idea.

Fabulous dinner on the water in La Tigre. A group of islands we day-tripped to. No drinking water on these islands and everything has to be delivered by boats.  Notice Kate correcting her posture in hopes for a photo op.

Our lovely tour guide Sandra informing us on the history of La Tigre 

Mr. Shults explaining the local flora and fauna. 

Bizarre Shults rituals.

Raining in downtown B.A. Kate and I walking to the hotel. 

Brandsen Photos

Kate eagerly waiting for the bus.

2 hour bus ride with this old man laughing at me and saying questionable things about Kathy and Kate.

Give her a drink and she's all smiles.

This mattress was originally owned by Pablo's great great grandmother.  Kate said it was as comfy as a corpse. 

Adorable clothes line.

Adorable homeless dogs. Everywhere.

Pablo walking the streets of Brandsen, where everyone know his name AND we saw the mayor getting a coke in the kiosko (711)

Chicho preparing the grill.

Tricycle, Pablo's 17 year old three legged dog.

Kate says this tango dance is A-okay.

Our delicious asado in Pablo's backyard.

Pablo and Chicho helping the ladies into bed.

Kathy looking up new spanish words. Ex. Helado = Icecream

The sunglasses crew joyriding in Brandsen.

The well stocked bus with eager thieves drooling over my ipod. (jk)  (sort of)

Lovely Argentine countryside. 50 kilometers outside of Buenos Aires.

Beautiful trees

These trees are everywhere in B.A. Purple pedals line the streets.

This is right outside the modern art museum.

James in a car with Chicho and Pablo

Joyridin' in the streets of Brandsen.

Argentine countryside

My bus ride home from Brandsen.

Pablo cracking himself up and KITTEN

Kate, Pablo, Kathy and Chicho waiting for the castle tour.  Pablo is the one talking about chicken. 

Weekend in Brandsen

This past weekend James and I took a break from the bright lights, big city and caught a bus with our dear friend Kathy out to Brandsen. Brandsen is a small town about 80 kilometers north of Buenos Aires in Argentina. Our friend Pablo lives and teaches in Brandsen, and he invited the three of us out for the weekend. I'm having trouble uploading pictures, so I'll just have to use words on this one for the time being.

After about three hours on the bus, we arrived in Brandsen and began preparing for the asado (BBQ) that night. It's pretty standard to barbecue every weekend here. We bought a variety of meats and vegetables to grill and had a good look around Pablo's stomping grounds. James and I agreed that Brandsen reminded us a great deal of the suburbs of Tampa, minus the beach. This photo (the only one I can get up so far) is of Pablo's dog, Tricycle. You may notice that the dog only has three legs. Pablo told of that one of his legs, "caught off." A gruesome translation, if I ever heard one.

The asado was fantastic, of course. It was the four of us, plus Pablo's friend Chicho. Chicho brought over a grate and set it up on top of some cinder blocks, building a fire on the ground. A friend made the point that, in college, we had a grill whose legs broke off. We ended up propping the grill up on cinder blocks and it worked fine. Some things are the same everywhere, I guess.

After many liters of Quilmes (the Bud/PBR/High Life-equivalent of Argentina) and tons of food, we headed for the ice cream parlor. Being an English teacher, Pablo had some pupils come say hello and practice their English talking to us. Neighbors speculated as to why Pablo had so many American friends - we stood out, as you can imagine.

We spent the next day walking around La Plata, the capital of Buenos Aires, the providence. La Plata was a nice place, with a beautiful cathedral. Lavender grew everywhere and as a result, the air smelled sweet and clean everywhere. Even the trash was like aromatherapy. Sort of. We also went to an outdoor market, where people were selling purebred puppies for the equivalent of a hundred U.S. dollars. We had to drag Kathy away crying and screaming, shooting estrogen out of her pores (these dogs were fucking cute).

It was then back on the bus and to Buenos Aires. It was only home and in the shower that I realized that the mattress I had slept on in Brandsen had bed bugs. I was bitten all over. I have pictures of that as well. We will hopefully get those up soon. I know you can't wait.

Kate.

Marcha del Orgullo LGBT - November 1, 2008

This was only a few days into our trip here in BA. We heard banging and singing in the streets outside of our hostel (which is pretty normal - there are a lot of marches and protests down Av. de Mayo) and went down to check it out. It was the Marcha del Orgullo LBGT (Lesbian Gay Transgender Bisexual), a massive march/party from the Congress down Av. de Mayo all the way to the Pink House (their equivalent to our White House - where Evita stood on the balcony and all that). There were over 40,000 people there, walking down the street, dancing, kissing, shouting, drinking. People wore costumes or no clothes at all! Families were everywhere and straight couples made out right along side gay couples. It was a wonderful sight to see and totally by accident! When the parade got to the Pink House, it became a massive dance party and political rally. Unfortunately, we understood little of what the speakers were saying, but it seems that the GLBT community is not much better off, rights-wise, than it is in the U.S. This is a shame because Buenos Aires, I have been told, has the largest queer community in South America. Here are a few photos from the event and some of the colorful people we met.




This nun's breasts are fake, but we saw plenty of real ones on the street - people just naked with heels on. Wild.

James admiring one of the MANY massive floats loaded with people that came by. Each float had their own DJ, so if we didn't like the song playing in the nearest float, we walked to another one and the dancing resumed.

Warning: For Those Traveling to Buenos Aires

This is a post I made for some friends recently. I was venting about a bad day here and it came out pretty funny, I suppose. I got such a good reaction, that I thought I would repost it here. You'll have to excuse the language, Dear Readers, it was not intended for such sophisticated subscribers such as yourselves. : )

Warning: For Those Traveling to Buenos Aires
1. I had heard that because there are so many Europeans here, you do not necessarily need to know spanish to get around. that's false. And even if you thought you knew spanish (me), you fucking don't.
2. if you shout "fuck bush" or "obama" or "hugo chavez" in a crowded club. you'll make some friends.
3. Ladies, if you even look at a boy for half a second, they will put their tongue down your throat and say you're boring if you get offended.
4. Don't go through something at a club that people call the "fuck tunnel" with your cell phone in your back pocket, it will get stolen. so you'll get fucked either way.
5. When it's raining, do not ask for a "pancho," you will get a hot dog.
6. When sitting in a cafe, don't expect to leave sooner than 4 hours later. This is the "tranquilo" lifestyle. straight up.
7. Hostels are a good way to make friends. beware the "Hostel Hoe," it may be you.
8. If your landlord has a wolf finger, don't pay her in American dollars.
9. BEWARE of the gatorade lookalike, it does not taste like orange or glacier ice or blue fucking courage, it tastes like rotting corpse.
10. The people of Beunos Aires are into candy. But if you buy a cracker that says it tastes like a cheeseburger or pizza, it tastes like a triscuit.
11. You wanna get a cheese pizza? Oh no, you get a thick crust loaded with mozzarella that tastes closer to ass than ass itself. Where's the marinara sauce? Good question. If you want pepperoni, be prepared to get blood sausage or just straight hot dog.
12. You thought you were going to eat dinner at 7pm? Oh no, child, you're still sleeping off the mediocre night at the club. Dinner is at midnight, if best.
13. Last but not least, don't set foot in La Boca (The Mouth of BA) - we have not actually been there but apparently it is the closest thing to hell you can get here. night time + dress + no panties + la boca = ass slave. Even locals are afraid of being "stolen," whatever the hell that means. sounds fun. boca juniors games are held in this side of town, enough said. i'm there.

with love, your friends,
james and kate, better known as "la casa it's too real."

Our roof.

Roofies.

The Sights

Kate here. James and I are finally settled in a new apartment in the Microcentral and have the luxury of doing things like update blogs. It's been a rough week and a half, but lots of fun too. We already have so many photos of all of our adventures, so I decided to start with some broad photos of the city. A taste of Buenos Aires before we get into our particular experiences here. James and I hope that this blog will serve not only as a way for friends and family in the States to see what we are up to, but also a creative outlet for our particular dialogue with this new city as we experience it.

Photo time!

Get ready for some photos.  Soon as I get some batteries we're gonna go hog-wild. Here's a taste....