As you all know, I'm doing my part in saving Argentina's economy one English student at a time... one hour a day... two days a week. So if you're asking yourself, "why after two weeks of anticipated visits to the blog has Ted left me with only one post, has he forgotten about me?, is there trouble in paradise?," please remember that I'm part of something bigger than myself here, and can't always make time for you. Sorry, but not really.
It has been an exhausting couple of weeks. Living in a Peter Pan hostel (where no one wants to grow up, see what I did there?), and spending my afternoons doing this, has led to a less than ideal amount of me time. I really can't complain though because the internship is going well. The classes are continuing to help me learn how little Spanish I know, and the majority of my coworkers are fun and interesting people. I do, however, have a bone to pick with one - Pablo. For about one week I brought a banana to work as an afternoon snack. When that special time of the day came that I got to enjoy this snack, Pablo, without fail, would say, "Sexy moment, sexy moment with Theodore Vander Linden." I laughed the first time, but perhaps to loud, because now I can't eat a banana in peace. As I write this meaningless story (at work) I'm eating an apple, and that's not an accident.
Recently I had to make another life decision on par with tolerating unfunny remarks or switching to a lesser fruit. This one involved a long held stereotype of mine which I never planned on divorcing; that Frisbee players are dirty hippies who listen to Dave Matthews barefoot with rolled-up jeans. I chose to swallow my pride, retire the hippie jokes, and join an ultimate team, "Los Cadillacs," with some of my friends. Last Saturday we played on a campus field by the river. The league is relaxed and the players are largely from South American countries. We lost, but hey, the best team doesn't always win. Afterward, we all took off our shoes, held hands, and listened to Phish.
I guess the moral of this nonsense post is that however outlandish or foreign the idea of up and moving to BsAs may sound, it really isn't. My life is still full of these pedestrian moments and decisions. I honestly believe that I would've had to make more life adjustments to become a suit in NY. This may be because I've always had one foot back in the States, with no real intention of staying here long term. But I also feel that aside from the language, and that my blond hair and blue eyes alone make ladies weak in the knees (not true), BsAs is just like anywhere else. I mean, it's still cooler than what you're doing, but not that different.
3 years ago