Beauty Will Save the World

I just returned yesterday from a weekend in Montevideo, Uruguay, and it was a strange juxtaposition of perspectives.  I was absolutely a tourist, but I was some cross between an American tourist and an Argentine tourist.  I'm already accustomed to the porteño way of life, and Montevideo was a change of pace.  It is a bit of a smaller city and it felt less physically constricting than the concrete jungle of Buenos Aires.  Also, urugayos are a different breed; it's difficult to explain the subtleties in the cultural differences, but I think that it is accurate to say that they are very hospitable and more laid back.  Buenos Aires seems much busier and cosmopolitan, while Montevideo is a more typical Latin American city.  I have to say that I dig the buena onda (good vibes) in Uruguay.  But as much as I enjoyed my time in Montevideo, I am glad that I chose to study in Buenos Aires, because it is, after all, a world-class city, and I don't think that I will ever cease to be amazed by its its offerings.

This very-phallic building in downtown Montevideo
used to be the tallest in all of South America

But I have to gush about Uruguay for a bit.  You know those moments where everything is just perfect?  I was lucky enough to have a few of those in the last few days.  The hostel I stayed at was run by some really friendly montevideanos (though I'm not sure they come in any other way), and was filled with tourists from Brazil and elsewhere in South America.  They all spoke English to some degree, the hostel people spoke Portuguese and the Brazilians spoke some Spanish.  One night we had a fantastic conversation after we all returned from our night on the town, and it was something that I imagine would fascinate the linguistics major in each of us.  I would tell a story in 90% Spanish, throwing in a few words of English when I needed to.  The Brazilians would respond in Spanglish/Portuñol, and the Uruguayos would translate the Portuguese for me.  It was a magical experience to be able to communicate like that with complete strangers.

The second perfect moment came when I walked along a pier-type thing that jutted out into the Río de la Plate.  When I reached the end, I turned back for the first time, and the sight was staggering.  It wasn't beauty as conventionally defined; the pier was located in an industrial part of town near the port.  But the scene got to me.  The sun was approaching the horizon, casting long shadows on the enormous cargo cranes and the modest, yet distinctively Latin American apartments in the vicinity.  I was surrounded on three sides by water, and the wind was just cold enough to chase away complacency.  The rugged charm of that pier was so utterly calming that I could not dwell on any negative thought or be concerned with any of the stressful aspects of life in a foreign land.  All I could do was look, and see.  And I saw something that I could never have expected to see in that place, something that washed away my anxieties better than anything else could have.

Yes, four grown adults did cling to childhood here

The third moment came in a public bus.  We were returning to our hostel after a long day walking through town, and admittedly I was not in the best of moods for a variety of reasons.  But then a man stood up, holding his acoustic guitar, and began to play and sing.  If there were a way to objectively measure beauty, this probably would not have made the cut, as the man most likely wasn't a particularly magnificent singer or guitarist.  The truth is, though, that I don't even remember how talented a musician he was.  I only remember the intense beauty and improbability of the situation.  That I would find myself on a bus in Montevideo, Uruguay, listening to a man make life a little more pleasant for 30-odd people on their way somewhere else was incredible. 

Montevideo's beautiful shoreline must be perfect on a warm summer day

It inspired an inner philosophical monologue for me, and it brought to mind a favorite quote from Fyodor Dostoyevski's The Idiot, and the title of this post: "Beauty will save the world." We need not only find beauty in the expected places, but in everyday life as well.  And we must find that beauty in order to survive, because without it, what is life for?

So you might have noticed that the style of this post is little different.  More serious, probably with better grammar, and maybe it even seems pretentious, but this is how I feel right now, and for me, this blog is mostly just a diary of my life abroad that the whole world can read.  So please, forgive the bad-attempt-at-Zen attitude this week!

A scary/intriguing abandoned train station we came across

Some miscellaneous items:  

1) Before leaving for Montevideo, I went to a movie theater that the Argentine government subsidizes, so tickets cost just $1.50 for students.  I went with a friend from my program, and after arriving at the cinema we had to choose whether to see "Paka Paka" or something with "end of the world" in the title.  Clearly, we chose the latter, and found that the full title was Hermanitos del fin del mundo.  When I requested a ticket for this movie, the ticket guy shot me the most confused look, so I confirmed that this was the movie that started at 4:15.  My friend asked if I was a good movie, but the man just shrugged and said he hadn't seen it.  Thoroughly perplexed, we went to the theater, and as we waiting for the movie to begin, we noticed that every person that entered the theater was under the age of eight or with someone under the age of eight.  It turns out that "Little Brothers at the End of the World" is a children's movie set in Tierra del Fuego (hence the end of the world bit).  To top it off, it was also a musical, and a badly acted and performed one at that.  Needless to say, it won't be a contender for the Best Foreign Film   Oscar, but at least it was easy to follow and provided me with a good extranjero story.

"You have a weapon, you have a problem."
Things are different here.

2) In three short weeks, I've changed a lot.  I am a calmer person because I've been forced to be okay with not being in control of what happens around me.  Additionally, my perspective on the world and my identity has shifted, though not in the ways I had anticipated.  The most striking thought I have had is that despite the fact that I've always strongly identified myself as an American (though I was not always conscious of how much so), nationality is completely arbitrary.  I never chose to be born in America, and the choice to never leave there had never truly been left up to me.  It might sound silly, but after talking to Argentines and Uruguayos, I understand that we are all really the same in a way that I hadn't before.  What really separates you for someone from another country? Language and culture, maybe, but as I'm finding, that is something that can be learned.  So I've begun to question the entire premise of borders and nations and national identity, and I know that I sound like a hippie and a communist but I don't care.  For now, I still consider myself an American, but my acceptance of the idea that it might not always be that way has been interesting.  Who knows, maybe I'll just tell people I'm a "student of the world" when they ask me where I'm from.

3) Border security between Argentina and Uruguay is absolutely nothing.  I walked through a metal detector and set it off because I was wearing a belt, and no one insisted on a cavity search! In fact, no one even stopped me!  So much for TSA.  And a Londoner I met in the hostel told me that he had unwittingly been an illegal immigrant in Argentina for eight months because his visa had expired.  No one deported him, and his only punishment was that he had to pay a 300 peso (US$75) fine.  It is insane how differently Americans and Argentines think about borders and immigration, and though I know there are many differences in their respective immigration situations, the more relaxed, welcoming, and tolerant way of South America appeals to me more.

4) I started classes today.  I'll have more about life at UBA in a later post, but I can tell you a few things after just a day.  UBA has been nothing like the organizational disaster that it was described to me as.  My two professors today were both very friendly, made a point to welcome the exchange students, and spoke slowly and clearly for our benefit.  One professor emailed everyone the week's reading (unexpectedly), and included a version in English! I'm going to read it first in Spanish, but since I can really only understand 40% of political theory written in English, it can't hurt to have the option.  The building is nothing like you would find at Pomona, but is also not the rathole that I had expected.  Although it was humorous that flyers praising the merits of the new building (by new I mean different) that the political science department has this year said "The bathrooms are clean, and sometimes even have soap!"  Additionally, when my professor flipped to light switch to brighten the room, nothing happened, and everyone reacted nonchalantly.  My first class had only about 20 students, 5 of which were exchange students from American liberal arts colleges, and my second class, with about 40 total, had maybe 10 from the US.  As a first-day safety blanket, I sat with the American kids, but starting tomorrow I plan to shun them and try to make Argentine friends.  The incredible thing is that UBA is completely free, and seems to have impressive academics, with great professors and small classes.  Add this to the free and universal health care they have here, and I'm trying to figure out what we're doing wrong in the United States. *typical liberal American response*

PICTURES!!!

The thing reminiscent of a Soviet-era bomb shelter
at the end of the magical pier

A fountain where lovers go to immortalize
their devotion.  Urban version of carving
your names into a tree

An enormous chivito, a traditional Uruguayan sandwich made with
beef, ham, bacon, egg, and about 3 pounds of condiments

A cool statue and building in Montevideo

Alex and Mary por siempre

Beginnings of a panorama of the view from the end of the dock.
A brave attempt, but a failed one.

A very colorful corner market

Sorry for the awful formatting.  If you have tips on how to do it better, or tips on anything really, drop me a comment!

Next week, I swear I'll have some photos of Buenos Aires for you to contrast these with.  Until then, hasta luego!

PS Completely unrelated, but does someone that has Watch the Throne get it to me somehows??

Cómo se dice, "homesick"?

I've never been homesick before.  Not when I went to college for the first time, and not when I lived in San Francisco by myself this summer.  Of course I occasionally missed home/Pomona and people in both places, but nothing I would characterize as "homesick."  In fact, I never really knew what that meant.  Well now I do.  Homesickness is when everything about a new place makes you irrationally irritated and several times a day you find yourself wishing you could just go back.  But I can't go back, at least not until December, so I'll deal with it and hopefully regain my positive outlook on my time in Buenos Aires.  In case you're wondering, here are some things that annoyed me on a recent afternoon:

1) Why is it winter here? I don't care about science and how the Earth's spherical shape creates hemispheres with opposite seasons, it's JULY, dammit, and it shouldn't be 8 degrees Celsius!

2) WHO UNDERSTANDS CELSIUS?! NOT ME.  All I know is that 8 degrees Celsius is real cold.

3) Why am I always lost? Yeah, I eventually find my way home, but sometimes it takes 10 minutes of standing on a corner deciphering my bus guide and 15 minutes walking to the stop for the bus that I thought was closest but almost certainly wasn't.  And then 10 minutes waiting for the bus, all in 8 degree Celsius weather! (FYI, 8 degrees Celsius is somewhere around 45 degrees Fahrenheit)

4) Where is the American food?  Yeah, the food here is mostly delicious.  But it's ALL THE SAME.  Seriously, half of my meals have been pizza or empanadas, or some combination thereof.  I just want some vegetables, yo! I'm pretty sure my body hates me for the lack of nutrients it has been getting lately.  Out of frustration I had a PB&J (PB and J both brought from home) and a glass of milk for lunch a few days ago, although the taste of the bread kind of overpowered everything else.  You see, my host family makes their own bread, but it doesn't especially taste good (I'm hoping that the blandness indicates some sort of nutritional value... maybe?)

5) Why does everyone speak Spanish all the time? Seriously, this is getting old.

6) On the real, I haven't been exercising much (it's hard to find a gym that I like, okay!), but after a day of trying to understand a foreign language nonstop, I'm completely exhausted.

Part of the problem might be that I've sorta been a bum the last week.  Orientation is over now, so I don't have much motivation to leave my bed.  I hate to admit this, but I spend over half of the day in my room sleeping or on the Internet.  Last night I fell asleep at 10pm, woke up at midnight to brush my teeth and change my clothes, then slept until 11am this morning.  But this is also a bit of a chicken-and-egg dilemma; I don't leave my house because I don't know what to do once I leave my house, but I don't know what there is to do here because I haven't left my house.  I'm blaming it on the weather, which is additional incentive to hermitize.

I know that everything will be better in a few weeks, after I start classes, become more familiar with the city, the culture, and the language, and hopefully make a few friends.  To do this, I'm planning to join an ultimate frisbee team here.  We'll see how that goes, because most of the Argentines with whom I've talked about ultimate have no clue what it is.  But since ultimate will be only once a week, I might also join a fútbol team, though I haven't played soccer since I was 8.

In other news, I finally chose some classes.  Ultimately I will only need to take 3 classes (or 2 if I end up getting an internship), but for now I'm enrolled in 4.  They are:

Argentina Reciente II (1983-1999) - Recent political history of Argentina
Historia Latinoamericana 
Capitalismo, socialismo, y revolución social contemporánea
Análisis Político: Conflicto y Cooperación en Latinoamérica


As you can tell, I'm eager to learn about the history, politics, and social dynamics of this country and Latin America in general. I'm sure I will learn a ton, but I'm also sure that there is no way I will keep up to date with 100% of my schoolwork, at least while I'm in 4 classes.  The double-whammy of having to learn in a foreign language of which I currently only have a basic grasp and the desire to enjoy my time in a new city ensures that I will probably spend most of the first months barely hanging on.  But that's the point of study abroad, right?

The kids returned yesterday from their weeklong winter vacation to their grandma's house.  It's nice to have them back, because I have two little monsters with whom I can pretend to be dragons.  They still don't know/can't pronounce my name, but I'm hoping we'll get there soon.  Moira explained to me today that it's my fault, because my name is hard to pronounce, while hers is easy.  I think she's pretty close to getting it, though; today she called me something along the lines of Rum.

It's cat mating season, as my host mom informed me.  My window faces several rooftops where cats like to chill after dark.  Not much else to say about that.

A cat chillaxin' in Cementerio Recoleta

There are also tons of cats that live in el Cementerio Recoleta, a cemetery where famous Argentines, ex-presidents, and military heroes are buried.  Well not so much buried... The cemetery is filled with beautiful tiny buildings made of marble, inside of which the caskets are located, with glass windows for viewing.  It's a bit disconcerting to walk past and actually see the casket which presumably has a dead body inside (or whatever remains of the body).  The cats just roam around in the cemetery, and it's on the whole a very bizarre experience.

So when we got here the program paired everyone up with a tutor.  Surely they explained their purpose, but I was either not listening or just not understanding Spanish.  Anyways, I assumed from his title that Rodrigo would be helping me to figure out my classes.  To my surprise, he scoffed when I asked if he also studied political science at UBA.  "No," he said, "I'm a musician!"  Being thoroughly confused, I resorted to my mode of late: Act like you understand and maybe you will.  Probably not, but maybe.

I eventually learned that my tutor was actually just a young guy that Middlebury pays to be my friend.  The good thing is that it doesn't seem like he's getting paid, but rather he seems to actually enjoy teaching me what young folks do here.  Rodrigo is friends with two other guys' tutores, so on Saturday all six of us when to a party at their friend's apartment.  Being musicians, they have lots of hipster artist friends, and the party felt straight out of a scene from Woody Allen's recent film Midnight in Paris.  There was a girl chain-smoking in corner while painting, and after a period of socializing, a jam session broke out.  Our tutores are fantastic Spanish guitar players, it turns out, and it was an amazing scene to see such incredible talent concentrated in one room.  There were more guitars, bongo drums, and singing, at it was all indescribably beautiful.  These are the kind of Argentine friends I need.

I have no pictures to post this time, because I never have my camera with me.  This is mostly because I'm absent-minded, but also because I'm afraid of getting my camera snatched.  Once I understand better where I will and won't get things stolen, I'll be taking more pictures.  I'm going across the Río de la Plata to Uruguay with some friends from my program for our last few days before school starts.  I promise to have pictures of that adventure next time!

¡Chau, amigos!

PS to those of you who have facebook chatted, emailed, and video chatted me, I appreciate it! Seriously, there is nothing I appreciate more than real friends who understand me.  Keep it up, and if I haven't talked to you yet, let's do so soon.  And although you might think your silly American life isn't exciting compared to mine in a foreign country, know that I still care!  Let me know how you're doing!

La vida cotidiana en Buenos Aires

It's been a whirlwind of a few days.  I've been in Argentina for less than a week, and I've already learned so much.  Of course, there are still many, many things that I don't understand yet.

The Food

The typical Argentine diet includes a lot of meat, mostly beef.  Argentina is famous for its steaks, though I have yet to try one because my host mom is a former vegetarian, and my family generally eats more vegetables and less meat than the average Argentine household.  I really appreciate this fact, because a lot of people from my program have had trouble adjusting to such a meat-and-processed-carbohydrate heavy diet.  The empanadas are delicious, although I'm pretty sure they aren't that good for you, because they're basically just Hot Pockets.  Also whole grains don't exist here.  Overall, though, the food is fantastic, but somehow everyone here is thin...

Orientation

My program's orientation began Friday, and it has been a whole lot of boring.  I have spoken and heard a lot more Spanish because of it, but I've also done the same with English, because having other American students around is a constant temptation to break out the inglés.  I've made friends with some really cool people, though, and they'll come in handy in the coming weeks until I make Argentine friends.  (That last sentence made it seem like I'll ditch them as soon as I meet some locals.  I can neither confirm or deny this, but I can say that that was not the sentiment I was trying to convey.)  On Saturday we got to tour the Casa Rosada, which is the Argentine equivalent of the White House.  I don't have much to say about it, except that it's pink.

The Language

Argentines don't call it español, they call it castellano.  I'm not entirely sure what the distinction is, but it's possible that español refers to the Spanish spoken in Spain while castellano refers to the Spanish spoken in Argentina and Uruguay.  And oh yes, there is a difference.  In most Spanish-speaking countries, ll is pronounced like y.  For example, pollo is pronounced "po-YO." But porteños (literally people of the port, or residents of BA) pronounce "ll" and "y" like the "s" sound in "measure," so pollo = "po-ZHO."  This can be confusing, because sometimes you won't even recognize basic words when you hear them.

The view from my room, photo courtesy of Moira

My castellano has improved quite a bit since I got here.  I've started to unconsciously think in Spanish and I've had several dreams in Spanish (though the idea that this is the indicator that you're fluent is phooey).  It is a very bizarre feeling to think in another language.  When I think about things people said in the past in English, I remember them as if the person said them in Spanish.  My mind is automatically converting ideas expressed in English to Spanish, and it's a really cool but surreal experience!  Since orientation has started, though, I've been speaking a lot more English to the other Americans, because after speaking Spanish for 8-10 hours, everyone is really tired of it.  It's amazing how comforting it is to simply to able to express yourself fully and naturally after hours of not being able to.  But my progress with Spanish has slowed because of this, so I've decided that for the next week I'm going to try to speak and read as little English as possible.  I need to learn as much Spanish as possible before I start classes in two weeks!

Nightlife


On Friday night a few people from the program decided that we wanted to go out.  I was really tired, though, and porteños don't even start their night until midnight or 1am, so I decided to take a short siesta at 10pm.  I learned that this isn't the best idea when I woke up at 10am the next morning.  The key to success is to drink mate, a ubiquitous type of tea which is basically crack cocaine in liquid form.  Drink just a little mate and you feel like running a marathon!  Saturday was more successful after this lesson was learned, and we went to an overpriced bar in Palermo.  I realized that I've already become a cheapskate, because the idea of paying 8 dollars for a mixed drink was horrifying.  In general things are very inexpensive here; the national slogan should be "In Argentina, it's all Two-Buck Chuck".  I went to the grocery store and bought the most expensive bottle of wine they had early today.  And it was ten dollars.  I didn't especially want/need the ten-dollar bottle of wine, but how many times in America will I buy the most expensive wine in the store? Approximately never.


¡Qué Quilombo!

Cornelios fell asleep on my bed while listening to Eminem.
 All together now, "AWW"

From what I've gathered, there is a lot of pickpocketing and straight-up robbery here.  I'm pretty sure I experienced this firsthand a few days ago.  I was waiting at the bus stop, probably looking like an American, and some guy came up to me and starting saying something.  He was speaking really quickly and really close to my face, and I couldn't understand him; I'm pretty sure, though, that he said the word "machete" (although this could have been "billete," or wallet, but either way he wanted my money).  I figured I was being robbed, although it was a curious scenario -- it was dark, but it was only about 8pm, so there were plenty of people around.  Thus I surrendered my wallet and the guy took some money and walked briskly away.  I wasn't too shaken up about it, though, considering that I was confused more than anything and he only got away with around 30 US dollars.

In other news, there have been some small victories.  Like when I figured out how to decode the bus guide, or unlock the front door to my house.  Now the big decision is choosing my classes; do I want to take "Análisis Político: Conflicto y Cooperación en Latinoamérica," or "La Socialdemocracia en América Latina: Problemas, Actores, y Estrategias en el marco de los procesos de democratización"?  I'll letcha know how that one turns out next week!

¡Hasta luego amigos!

First day in Buenos Aires

Living in a foreign country is a good way to increase your humility.  Because pretty much everything you do seems stupid.

Yesterday, I finally arrived in Buenos Aires after a grueling 13-hour red-eye flight.  I wasn't able to sleep at all, but on the upside, the flight attendants served me food!! and WINE! Those 3 ounces of wine were pretty much the highlight of my journey.  I convinced everyone I encountered that I spoke fluent Spanish, although I understood approximately 5 percent of what they said.  When the flight attendent came by to ask what we wanted for dinner, I just said "lo mismo" ("the same") and found that the lady sitting next to me had ordered teriyaki chicken.  Not bad.

The trouble started after I arrived at the airport in Buenos Aires.  I hadn't written down the exact address of my host family because my program's director had told me that there would be a taxi waiting for me.  As I left customs, I saw a bunch of people holding signs with names, but none with mine.  So after pacing back and forth, thinking maybe I just hadn't seen my driver for some reason, I decided to get another taxi.  This turned out to be fine (although it was quite a bit more expensive than the original taxi), but I still didn't know the address, so I told him (in my rudimentary Spanish) the name of the barrio and the street where I was living and asked him to drop me off at an internet cafe.

Apparently he thought I meant a real cafe.  Like, with pastries and coffee.  And without internet.  So I bought a doughnut and a bottle of water after ten minutes of trying to figure out the exact means of doing so, then sat down to see if I could find nearby wi-fi.  No luck.  I didn't know how I was supposed to pay for my snack, so I just waited with a profound look of confusion until a waitress came over and told me how much money I owed.  Of course hearing her speak Spanish caused me an undue amount of anxiety, so I didn't hear exactly what she said and misunderstood her.  She said it was 10 pesos and 86 cents, but I thought she said 86 pesos, which would be around 20 dollars.  But I gave her a hundred pesos anyways and awaited to see how much change I'd get back.  After not being ripped off, I asked the woman where I could find internet, and she gave me directions that I didn't really understand, but she made it seem like it was somewhere on that street.  I walked up and down Avenida Boedo probably 20 times before I found an Internet cafe.  Luckily I was only two blocks from the house and I finally made it there.

My host family is SO GREAT.  Pablo and Regula are tango instructors, and they also run a bed and breakfast that is attached to their house.  Juan is 13, but he is only here Wednesday, Thursdays, and the last weekend of every month (I think? I dunno they explained this to me but I only ever understand half of what they say), and the rest of the time he lives with his mom.  Moira is 5 and Cornelios is 3, and they are the cutest and friendliest little kids ever.  Last night I was in my room kind of avoiding them so I didn't have to deal with the stress of speaking and hearing Spanish, and I could hear the little kids and their dad singing to tango music at the top of their lungs in the kitchen.

Last night I was in my room wondering when dinner was going to happen, but being to afraid to ask, I googled it and eHow told me dinner would be between 8pm and 9pm, which turned out to be correct! Who knew?  Anyways, I had no idea what I was eating, although it looked like mashed potatoes with some vegetables on top.  I asked Pablo, and I think he told me it was mashed corn?  It tasted good though.

Today I slept until lunch time, so my family probably thinks I'm the laziest person ever.  I also didn't leave the house because I didn't know where to go and I don't have a phone yet.  About an hour ago, Regula knocked on my door and started telling me something.  I was really proud of myself because I thought I understood almost everything she said.  She said she was going to give me a tour of Buenos Aires so that I knew where everything was.  So I put on my coat (because it's winter here and it's actually really cold, given that I'm used to summer weather) and walked downstairs.  Well apparently she was going to give me a tour of Buenos Aires by showing me things on the MAP.  oops.  so currently I feel like the biggest dummy this side of the Mississippi.  But she explained some important things, like how Argentines conjugate their verbs weird (that explained part of the reason why I couldn't understand any of what they said) and how to use the bus guide (the most complicated thing in the world).  And I told her that I didn't understand much of the Spanish I heard and that I would probably ask the same questions many times.  Unfortunately I haven't really asked any questions, but instead I just nod and pretend like I get what's going on -- not the best idea.

I won't lie, this is a really scary experience.  It's really hard to not be able to understand what's going on around you, even more so than I thought.  I miss hearing people speak English!  But luckily I have a great family, and I'm pretty comfortable with this house.  Once I decide to leave the house, though.... welp, that'll be another story.

Pictures coming soon! Like, after I take them and upload them!

HOLY F#*&

So I leave today. It hasn't sunk in yet that in 6 hours I'll be on my way to South America, and I don't think it will until I board the flight to Lima, Peru.  It's really hard to explain the emotions that I feel right now.  After spending the weekend in Claremont, I've realized that I'm really going to miss being at Pomona next semester.  So there's a bit of sadness and hesitation, but those feeling are mostly overwhelmed by excitement about the experience I will have in a foreign country.  And I can't say I'm not nervous either.  The thought of introducing myself tomorrow afternoon, in Spanish, to my host family after a 13 hour flight is daunting.  For the first time in my life, I don't have any idea what to expect, because living outside the US is such a novel concept for which I have zero frame of reference.  Coming to college was a breeze compared to this! I know that my Spanish will improve immensely, that I'll make friends and fall in love with Buenos Aires, but right now those things seem quite distant and abstract.  So wish me luck!

Ready to go! Well...

In just 26 days, I will find myself on a foreign continent.  I will almost certainly be overwhelmed by a foreign culture, language, and nation.  My friends and family will be a hemisphere away.  And I can't wait.