Córdoba, tierra de cantantes

Last week I had the awesome opportunity to get to know another part of Argentina! Thursday, May 1st was Labor Day and BAICA hopped on board with the country's declaration of Friday as a bridge holiday to promote travel.

So travel I did.



With my friend Alyssa, we semi-cama-ejecutivo'd it on over to Córdoba.



The Travel-Buddy:
This was my first trip with Alyssa and it worked perfectly. What I lacked, she had. We shared the planning and decision-making very evenly and it was just the kind of company I needed.






The Overview:
beige colored buildings
bluer than blue skies
churches and cathedrals around every corner
pretty place but it's the people who make it.

It was a trip of buses, five towns (Capital, St. Rosa, Villa Gen. Belgrano, La Cumbre, Villa Giardino) in two days
a trip of meeting people, accepting hospitality, saying yes to a despedida, to dinner, to being taxied
we slept on overnight buses after whisky night caps, against windows on windy roads
we shared the bed of a stranger who worked in Cirque du Soleil
we stayed in a mom and pop hostel named accordingly in Quechua "Mamacha Tatai."





The Highlights: 
Though Cordoba was beautiful, I was more impressed with the people we met. Our couchsurfing host not only gave us a place to drop our stuff and crash for the night, but he integrated us into his group of friends. We went to an asado despedida party for a French girl who'd been living with him for over 2 months. All together we danced, ate, jumped rope, and made music.





The hostel in Villa Giardino immediately felt like home. The owners, the mom and dad, the Mamacha and Tatai stay true to their Interior Argentina Provincia de Santa Fe roots. After greeting us warmly and giving us a tour, they immediately sat us down with some mate. Then they got to know us. Their warmth and sincere interest blew us away. That night, we came back to a family dinner that they cooked for us. On our last day, the father took his car out to get in some final sight-seeing, and when it was time to leave, both got in the car to see us off. They left the hostel in the hands of the other two families staying there and drove us to the bus station where they waited with us. Kind doesn't cover it.



Another highlight was this dog that found us. On our last day after the mini tour by our "Dad," we walked from Villa Giardino to la Cumbre, lunched there, then took the bus back. We wanted to make it to the water that we saw on the tourist map before heading back to Cordoba Capital, so we went exploring. All we found were more dirt roads after more dirt roads, farms, and strangers staring at the obvious out-of-towners. But then a dog showed up. I don't know how to explain it because even in the moment we were incredulous, but this dog could understand us. He led us for about 45 minutes in total, to the water and back by shortcut. It was bizarre. And once we made it back to where we knew how to get to the main road, just as fluidly as he became our guide, he left our side without any goodbye.



My Dos and Don'ts of Cordoba:
Don't forget shoes when you go to the bathroom on the bus
Do take off your socks immediately
Do couchsurf
Do go to the party
Do talk until they understand
Don't trust tourist reviews
Do sleep sitting up
Do wear layers
Do follow dogs instead of people
Do use coats as covers
Do take advantage of the Mexican food
Don't take someone else's word for it

 

The Wrap-Up:
A hug good-bye at the bus station
We came to see streams and mountains, to get away from the crowds and bluster. In the end we rode buses, we slept with half our bodies hanging off half a twin bed, we gently decided not to wash with hair-covered soap in houses that were named our homes by a circus worker with two starving cats, a bucket full of locro with a French girl on his floor and seven South American dwarves;
by a silky bearded man with sharp eyes and a glowing fire face-- a modern viking Agnostic tamed by a pony-tailed woman with ulcers behind her eyes and heart full of honey, by two black dogs forgotten how to bark, sleep twitching their paws and tails lazy as the tie of a grandfather clock.
We looked for Christ standing grand and white, arms spread high above the city. We found him in a dog who led us through prickers to running water and back. We came to buy chocolate and left with a sweetness that lingers long after.



Thanks to Andrew for information, to Katy for the couchsurfing contact, to Gaby for being a great host, to Adriana and Bene for treating us like daughters, and to everyone back home for the prayers!

Waiting Room pt. 2

Good friends have told me it's hard to be in God's Waiting Room.

It's true. But at the same time, the details don't really matter. I don't think it matters if I go by train or bus, whether I wear a dress or pajamas, if I'm in Maine or Argentina, whether I stay or go-- I already know what I'm supposed to do. My calling is the same as all other Christians: love God, love others.

That we can do wherever we are, whatever we do. As long as I look to God to help me with that (which is, by the way, the only way I can even attempt it), he'll bring me where he can use me... IF and when he wants to.

Even Jesus said Not my will, but Yours.

Not my plan. Not even "God's plan for me," but God's plan-- and may I please take part?

Though I'm annoyed at being thrown back into the job search cycle, it's not that important and it's not all that bad either. I'm still young, meaning that I'm responsible for just myself. I don't have a family to support. I'm free and stable enough to entertain and explore many different directions. Really, I should be excited!

And if not excited, at least not overwhelmed, because I'm not alone. All I've gotta do is trust, try to listen, and keep my focus on the things that really matter. Then I can enjoy whatever comes along and take advantage of the time I'm given. Through the slight discomfort of the unknown, I recognize how blessed I've been and how lucky I am to have options.

It's all a matter of perspective.

Yes, I'm stressed, but I'm working to channel that stress into adrenaline and then into action.

Trust is a choice not to worry.
Luke 12:25
Which of you by being anxious can add a cubit to your height?
Matthew 6:27
And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to your life? 

In the Waiting Room, what do you do?
You wait...as patiently as possible.
You read and relate.
So in God's Waiting Room, I can read the Bible (which I love more every time I open it) and relate with the people sitting next to me (whom I'm learning to love slowly but steadily).

Waiting is not the same as wasting time. Pray that I understand that with a positive, proactive attitude!

The Waiting Room pt. 1

The last day before the Feriado I made myself an ultimatum and visited the Director's office to continue our ongoing conversation. The ultimatum: try or you've given up... Go or else it's a default no. The conversation: the future... Continuing opportunities at BAICA.

I told myself, in the absence of a yes, it's a no.

As I was hired as a long-term substitute for the duration of the 2nd Grade teacher's Maternity Leave, my contract lasts until the end of the school year. June 16 to be exact, which is a little more than a month. I knew that from the start. Aside from the security of an income, housing, a Christian community, I accepted the job and came to Argentina without official expectations-- just the hope that the school and I would be a good fit. I liked the idea of testing it out before I had to commit.

Well, a month or two back, I let the school know I was ready. Given the opportunity, I would sign on for a full term-- a contract for two years.

My supervisors gave me great feedback and I got my hopes up. Planning was quicker, teaching was smoother, class management became a thing I could understand. The job felt right.

Since then, it's been a back-and-forth between the school and me. Sincere talk, waiting, checking in, praying, looking for loopholes... Problem is there's no position for me. Regardless of my performance, I don't have the right qualifications. BAICA is an accredited school with an American curriculum and I didn't study education. Full time teachers have specialized transcripts, not just teaching certificates.

Well, on Tuesday I tried one more time. I left my self-preservation on my desk, walked upstairs to Andy's office, and straight out asked about my options. What I got was more positive feedback and inconclusive answers. They say I've got the natural knack for teaching and they're pleased with me... but that my future at BAICA looks bleak.

The gist is they don't want to close the door on me, but neither can they open doors that aren't there. And if it's not a yes, it's a no.

This answer of course had to come on the same day that the First Graders ask, "Miss Keenan, will you be our teacher next year?"... The same day a Kindergarten boy hugs me and says, "I love you! I can't wait till Second Grade!"

I don't want to leave. It feels like defeat.

The good news is I learned a new skill. More or less on my own, I figured out how to teach a 2nd Grade bilingual classroom in a few short months. I met amazing people, got to come back to Buenos Aires, and regained some confidence... but still, it feels a little like a break up. Something good is coming to a close and I can't say I'm ready for it.

Not only that, but I'm not ready to start the job hunt again. I'm not cut out for networking, searching, applying, and presenting myself as the best candidate. I really hate the whole thing. (But really, who doesn't?)

Boo hiss.

Decision time...

Entre Rios

List of observations:

+ Families on motos: father in front, mother in back, babies in the middle
+ No helmets, no fear
+ Misty morning palm trees
+ People more than pleased to give directions
+ Abandoned circus equipment
+ Dogs self grooming their backs on grass
+ Police pulling over with flashlights
+ Black water bugs the size of half my hand living in the hot springs, hiding in shadows
+ Telos running in the road
+ Age shows in water
+ Hot springs at night is an adult prom dance
+ Roads reminiscent of Maine driving
+ Gnats birthing in the heat, cloud around the river
+ Overrated dance-you-deaf night club
+ Fishing with sticks for lightbulb bottom feeders
+ Cheap chicken breasts
+ All calm, all right

Moving On, Moving Out

On the move again, which means I haven't stayed in one place longer than three months since graduating last May! Coming from a girl who grew up in the same small town, in the same room, in the same house since birth, who attended the same small school since Kindergarten until college, it's a pretty drastic difference.

In less than a year, I lived almost alone in Tulip Time Town, with sisters in Euphoria,
with my grandmother in a Field in Bloom, I've lived as a guest in my home, Vacationland,
in a one-window room along the river in Greater Good Air, and now I move to España, where the door never stays closed.

Five towns
Eight rooms
Six moves
Eleven months

Here's the list:
Jumanji; Holland, MI; with Michele, Jordan, Alyssa, Emily, and Katy; August 2013- May 2013
Smith's; Holland, MI; with Megan; May 2013 - July 2013
Euphoria; Holland, MI; with Erika, Jon, Kara, Carmina, Kreb, and Holmwood; July 2013- August 2013
Nammy's; Bloomfield, CT; with Nammy; September 2013
My room; Cape Elizabeth, ME; with family; October 2013
Guest room; Cape Elizabeth, ME; with family; November 2013 - January 2014
Vero's; Beccar, Buenos Aires; with Vero, Jemy, and Chachi; February 2014 - April 2014
España; San Isidro, Buenos Aires; with Becky, Kait, Lauren, Julie, and Courtney; April 2014 - June 2014

One of the teachers got married in April, so they painted up her room and I moved in to España-- a high-ceilinged BAICA-owned house on the street named España where the single teachers live. There are 6 bedrooms, 4 bathrooms, 2 couches, and a kitchen with high counters.

Some things I'm looking forward to at the new place:
-being in the same boat, being on equal ground, being part of the group
-having a day to wash laundry
-having common cooking items, soap, and toilet paper
-taking the bus with other people
-having a built-in social setting



Some special surprises:
-Quique helped me move all my things
-there's sheets I can use
-there's a towel I can use
-there's a nice view
-there's plenty of space and storage places
-the gate locks on its own

All the moves exhaust me but they remind me... It's not my time to root down yet. Material things, stuff weighs on me. Clutter is a burden. Everything I need will be provided. Situations change. Family is made by giving myself to others-- by paying attention, asking questions, making an effort. Buildings absorb the energy inside them. My work will pay off.

The concept of home is complex and much more figurative the older I get. Home is fluid-- like liquid, it takes the shape of where I choose to put it.