Moving on.

Here's a keeper: The Comics preofficial name was
The Chuckleheads.  Very old picture.  Priceless.

For me, the last day that I lived on Woodview Drive was over a month ago, and I left it behind with as little ceremony as I could muster.  Now, far away from this home of mine, I'm confronted with the truth of things: Today is the last day the Crowley's will live in that house.

I was reading through my journal today, and I came across this thing I wrote after I returned from a trip to Mexico a while back.  It says:

When I walked through the front door of my house tonight--when I knew I was not going back out until morning--I felt something unique.  It is a feeling I've encountered before, but only here, only on Woodview Drive.  I felt home.  I smelled the scent of home; I witnessed the warm kitchen lights; heard the silence of my sleeping family.  A smile crept over my face.  For a few full seconds, my brain only produced a one word thought: home.  I love it here, in this house, in this town.


That, however, is a feeling that dwindles with each day that passes.  As college shadows home, and new friends wrestle with the old for a place in my heart, my sense of home is becoming foggy.  My hopes and dreams of childhood grow weak and will eventually collapse under the weight of reality.  My body grows, and my mind is burdened by complexities and memory.  Everything changes.  Everything.

This was me in...5th grade I believe.  

One day, this home will no longer be home.  The place where I laughed the hardest I will ever laugh, in the backyard with Michael, the place where we played backyard football, where we built our skatepark.  It will all be lost to memory.  Loss is both a sharp sting and a chronic illness.  It is the bane of life.  


I cannot help but feel sad tonight, because of this truth.  It is a nostalgic, understanding, "crying-while-smiling" kind of sad.  Goodnight. -Nick




Moving away from the place where four brothers grew up is such an emotional challenge for me, as it is for my family.  I remember the moment when we stuck the "For Sale" sign in the snowy ground this past winter, and the surreal feeling which accompanied this action.  Even then, I struggled to grasp the reality that, very soon, I would no longer be welcome here.

I cannot express enough the pride I have for the strength of my family which prospered during the years we resided in this old wooden box, nor can I articulate the appreciation I have for all the support I received there, through thick and thin.  For all the good qualities I might possess within me, I can only thank the friends I made, the lessons I learned, and the good times I experienced on Woodview Drive.  I bid you a fond fairwell, W151 N7514.

Found this one and I nearly lost it. The gang's all there.  Represents everything perfectly.  We had a good run, didn't we?

The Past Week

I decided to stay in tonight, even though it's Saturday.  This past week was pretty exhausting, and I am happy to have the opportunity to relax a bit, finally.  The final homework assignments for this program are starting to weigh heavy on me, and I need to rest up for the big academic week ahead.  Also, I had quite a late night last night from which I need to recover.

I went to two museums this week: 1.) Eva Peron 2.) MALBA (Museo de Arte Latinoamericano de Buenos Aires).  The Peron museum was interesting, but a bit strange.  The Argentine population has a sort of obsession with this woman which I find  extreme.  Among those who view her fondly, she seems to enjoy godly adoration, a fact which is highlighted by the size of this museum devoted to her. Some of my classmates found it odd that the working class loved her so much despite the fact that she seemed fairly ostentatious about her wealth.  She dressed in fine European clothing and traveled luxuriously.  I suppose her political work with women's suffrage and charity, not her own financial decisions, caused the masses to support her so vehemently.

The Latin American art museum had a lot of good work in it (as well as those frustratingly simple modern art pieces that I still can't figure out).  Diego Rivera, David Siqueiros, and Frida Kahlo were the biggest names I recognized, and there were many paintings by artists I did not know which I appreciated nonetheless.

The most striking work, however, that I found in the museum, was by an experimental artist named Luis Benedit.  In the 1970s, he used his knowledge of botany and architecture to design an artificial world for plants with hydroponics.  Through his work he commented on the tie between nature and man's ability to cope with an increasingly artificial environment in the 20th century. Although I found his message intriguing, I was struck more by the practicality and relevance of his project in today's society. In Milwaukee, for instance, Will Allen is leading the way in urban agriculture using extremely similar strategies to revolutionize the way we grow food in the city.  (see more about that here)  Every time I think about this sort of thing I get excited about learning more biology and botany.

 Despite my best efforts, I also learned quite a bit in school this week.  We discussed Argentina's "Dirty War" which took place in the late 1970s.  Now, I'm not planning on giving a history lesson, but I just want to mention something.  About 30 years ago the military dictatorship that governed Argentina began abducting people who they suspected to be opposed to their regime.  Over a 5 year period, approximately 30,000 left wing citizens of Argentina disappeared at the hands of this government.  In other words, they were killed.  These were people who never committed any crime, other than holding beliefs contrary to the government's, and who did not receive any kind of trial.  Thus, their name, "desaparecios", or 'the disappeared'.

This government-led terrorism shocked me, mostly because it was so recent.  How could such widespread violent repression occur in such a modern age?  It reminded me of the atrocities that take place in other parts of the world even more recently.  I guess I found myself unprepared to confront this reality face to face.  It's so easy to read about it in the paper and be appalled from the kitchen table with a cup of coffee.  It's another story when you see your history teacher tear up about the issue because she knew people who were killed, and children who now have no biological parents. (These posters of the faces of the "desaparecidos" (disappeared) still decorate certain public areas in Buenos Aires.)

I'm glad I have been granted the chance to see a truer view of Argentina.  I would never have genuinely known this emotion without being here and witnessing it first hand.  I was also disappointed, although not exactly surprised, that the US government supported this military junta with lots of money.  Nice life, US.  Not that I'm eager to go out seeking trouble, but I think it's important for people to step outside the US bubble, to see the brutal reality of the world, and to live among the results of our own foreign policy.  When I go to Nicaragua next month, I'll be sure to return to this issue.

I'm extremely attracted to women with mustaches
and unibrows.

All right.  It's time for bed, methinks.  I hope you are all doing well!


 "We can be fairly confident that either there will be a world without war or there won't be a world - at least, a world inhabited by creatures other than bacteria and beetles, with some scattering of others."
                                    -Noam Chomsky

Happy Summer Solstice!

For those of you naturalists looking for a reason to celebrate the cosmic wonder of life!

I do not fear death. I had been dead for billions and billions of years before I was born, and had not suffered the slightest inconvenience from it. – Mark Twain

Lightening Safety Awareness Week

Last night I witnessed one of the most intense lightening storms I have ever seen.  What is more, I was outside walking to my Tango lesson when the bulk of it occurred.  The sky looked like the Super Bowl stadium at kickoff--relentless flashes coming from every direction.  Finally, the rain was so bad, and the lightening was so powerful,  I decided to stop under a the overhang of a nearby building.  Moments later, a deafening crash filled my ears as a lightening bolt struck the building directly in front me.  Sparks flew off the roof of the building, and a brief sizzling noise followed.

This is lightening in the ash cloud from the volcano
 that erupted in Chile recently.  The ash has carried all
the way to Buenos Aires and prevented flights for
almost a week!

This was the closest I have ever been to a "cloud to ground" strike, and boy, it was a scary sight.  I found shelter after that--there was no way I would continue walking in a storm that dangerous.  Coincidentally, today is the first day of Lightening Safety Awareness Week.  I just learned that 50 people a year die from lightening strikes.  Be safe out there!

"In the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and has been widely regarded as a bad move."
-Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (Or, the funniest book I've ever read)

Rainy Week

Last weekend, I made two goals for the remainder of my stay in Buenos Aires.  They were: 1.) Spend less time on the computer and 2.) run X miles per week.  With the bit of free time I would have away from the computer, I would spend more time exploring some of the nearby sights, and start my load of homework earlier than usual so that I wasn't swamped when the weekend came.

Of course, after 3 weeks of wonderful autumn-ish weather--clear skies, low 60s--it rained this week.  So, I failed both of my goals.  I did run, and I spent time away from the internet, but not nearly the extent I hoped I would.

All the nasty weather got me sick, so I spent much of the week trying to hold my head at a perfect angle to avoid nasal drippage.  I rarely have tissues on me, so in the classroom and on the bus I have to resort to more primitive measures.  Although a perfectly balanced head often keeps a pretty good equilibrium in my nasal cavity, I occasionally have to sneak a hand swipe past my nose to clean things up, and just hope no one's watching.  Having a cold is just an all around bummer.

On Thursday a few friends and I went to Chinatown, which turned out to be pretty run-down and unexciting.  We found a place that seemed clean, and ate dinner there.  When we walked in, the restaurant was nearly silent, even though people were eating in it.  We whispered our conversations in an awkward attempt to be inconspicuous, and although at first the quiet atmosphere struck us as eerie, eventually we managed to fit in.  This was my first Chinese food experience in a different country, so I sought to find out whether Chinese food is 'Americanized' in the US, and more 'genuine' in other countries.  The verdict: it's the same in the US and in Argentina.  Everything I tried tasted exactly the same as your typical American Chinese food restaurant.  Next step on this cuisine adventure: eat Chinese food in China.

Last night I ventured out to see some more of the night life in Palermo Soho. I had a really awful batch of beer, which I think was left out in the sun, so I spent the rest of the night trying to stifle the residual taste of it in my mouth.  Even the thought of a cerveza right now makes me a bit nauseous.  Thus, tonight I'm staying in.  After all, I am pretty swamped with homework, and I would like to save some money anyway.  First, however, I have a mandatory Tango lesson which I have to attend.  I'll let you all know how that turns out.

 Yesterday, in my history of Argentina class, we watched Diarios de Motocicleta.  I had been meaning to watch this movie, although I had no idea what it was about (I'm not really a motorcycle guy, so the name  sort of threw me off).  I did not know it was about a trip that Che Guevara took in his younger years which changed his career path from being a doctor to a revolutionary, and I did not know it would be so good.  I highly recommend checking it out if you haven't seen it yet!  If you aren't inspired to travel, at least you'll walk away with a bit of knowledge about how Che came to be the man he was. I don't know that the trailer does it justice, but I posted it anyway in case anyone is interested.

Also, in case anyone is worried about my health: I am doing quite a bit better today than I was earlier this week.  I just got back from a really fast run (there's a mile long loop in the park around this pond which I frequent, and there was a guy running super fast around it today.  We tacitly decided to challenge each other, and it felt so good to have the competition for a few miles), and I'm feeling great. I hope everyone back home is doing well also.

(All pictures complements of Jordan Koontz's flickr account).

I'm digging these tunes. Another post tonight/tomorrow probably!

"My Country" by The Tune Yards from Jacqui Opus on Vimeo.

Procrastinating this paper never felt so public...

Probably the most striking statue I saw.

Last week, I spent nearly every weekday thinking, "I'll go to bed earlier tonight."  And I never did.

The time flies here after class.  It's already past 4 o'clock when I get home, which leaves just under 2 hours of daylight to be out and about in the city.  I've spent some of that time reviving my running habit, and some of it walking around my apartment scoping out the territory.  At dusk, I begin my homework.

Reading literature in Spanish takes a while.  I'm currently reading Harry Potter y la piedra filosofal, and that's no sweat, but reading works by Mario Vargas Llosa and Jorge Luis Borges takes quite a bit more time.  I've found that using my physical dictionary does not help much, since it takes too long to look up words.

This weekend I had my first real assignments.  Thursday and Friday I "went out", but I decided to spend the rest of my weekend relaxing, catching up on sleep, and doing homework.  I've spent a good deal of time writing a few short essays in Spanish for my history class, and I'm on the prowl for a place to print.

One thing I did manage to do this weekend, however, was to visit the famous cemetery in Recoleta.  All the pictures here were taken on that expedition.  The cemetery looks more like an extremely wealthy ancient city, full of mausoleums with elaborate Greek columns, museum-worthy statues, and towering steeples.  Even the callejones weaved a city-like grid.  I spent a lot of the time trying to keep my jaw closed, thinking I'll probably never make enough money in my whole life to be worthy of a burial there.

I saw the place where Evita Peron was buried.  After two weeks of history class learning about the great respect that the people of Argentina have for that woman, I was surprised at the modesty of her tomb--much smaller than most, and tucked away in the corner.  Flowers and photos decorated her doorway, but due to it's inconspicuousness, we spent a solid half hour winding through the cemetery before we found it.  I suppose that suits her former role in Argentine society: a woman of the people.

Main view.  Kinda reminds me of the Congressional
Cemetery in D.C.

Now that I've been here a few weeks, I have gathered a few noteworthy differences between my home in the United States and Buenos Aires:

1.) A lot more people smoke here.  The air almost always smells of cigarettes.  (also, all the young people here are very good looking, whereas all the older people are a bit more worn and wrinkly...connection??)

2.) Buses drive as if they want to hit pedestrians.  'Nuff said.

3.) You have to buy water at restaurants.  Absolutely bogus if you ask me.

4.) Things are almost always closed on Sundays.

5.) A lot of people listen to foreign music here (aka, popular music from the US).  I would really like to hear more Argentinian music on the radio, but at restaurants and in taxis I almost always here music in English.

6.) Rollerblading is still cool here.

7.) Graffiti is everywhere. Perhaps they don't care that much, or perhaps their police force is not as widespread, but there is spray paint on just about everything.  Lots of scribbles and stencils.  Every so often there's some cool stuff.

8.) People know more languages here.  Spanish, English, and of course Portuguese.  Also, French is pretty common here I guess.

I'll update that list as I discover more things.  I'm sure I'm leaving a few things out right now.

I'm starting to think a lot about my coming school year.  On every trip of considerable length, I always devote way too much time to planning out what I want out of life.  I've finally reached that point on my Argentina trip.  I have only two, and possibly fewer, years of school left, and I'm trying to work out how to spend it.  Over the past few days, for a variety of reasons, I've been seriously second guessing my decision to become an RA at UW-Madison.  I'm just fearful that it will constrict me from getting myself involved in a few things I might have more of an interest in (for instance, Slow Food internship, studying abroad and continuing with my Spanish journey, working at SAFEwalk, etc.).

Any advice for me?

Had to take this one.  Like father, like son?

A Few Pictures from Last Weekend (complements to Chelsea Orr)

Here are a few more pictures from last weekend.  Click on them to see the full size, if you like.  I'll try to post a new entry tonight or tomorrow so come back soon!

Fin de Semana (Parte II)

Let me preface this entry by saying that I was hoping to get some better pictures of the weekend from some of my fellow students, but in order to keep this blog moving along, I had to be impatient.  Some people here have really nice cameras.  For now, however, my camera's pictures will have to suffice.

Boat ride and some friends.

Saturday's sleep felt like a nap.  I awoke much too early, and took a 3 hour boat ride to Montevideo, Uruguay.  I listened to some "Mike and Tom Eat Snacks" on my iPod before falling into a delirious slumber, interrupted by occasional flashes of sunlight from the window in front of me.  It wasn't a refreshing rest, but it helped get me through the day, I'm sure.

When arrived in the city, we were shocked to find it completely barren.  No cars, no people, no sign of life in the streets.  Like a colonial ghost town.  As it turns out, in this city, Sundays are taken very seriously--everyone stays in, and nothing is open.  A lot of students were a bit freaked out by the radical nature of their sabbath.  I'm not sure whether it is religious or merely tradition, but it was interesting to see a big city so empty.

We had some time to wander, so we decided to get some lunch from a smoky cluster of restaurants which were cooking something that smelled delicious.  What was this delicious aroma, you ask?  Meat.  Just a lot of meat plopped on a grill.  I'm no vegetarian, but I tend to avoid meat when possible, mainly for ethical reasons.  That said, I wanted to get the cultural experience, so I got the works: a little bit of everything.

That picture is what the waitress gave me.  Just a big ol' bucket of meat.  All of it was absolutely delicious.  All of it, except of course the blood sausage (scroll down to see an .gif which describes, via metaphor, my feelings quite accurately).  I finished feeling like a Neanderthal after the hunt--stomach full of animal, grunting with satisfaction. Ha, I didn't actually grunt with satisfaction, don't worry.

I, along with my fellow students, walked around the city seeing some of the more important sites.  I took a few pictures, and, unfortunately, forgot the significance of most of them.  Here are a few:

Former tallest building in South America.  Would look a lot cooler without that goofy antennae.  

Almost all the buildings looked like this.  I had a ton of pictures that looked
exactly like this one, so I just took one at random to give an example.

 From Montevideo, we took a bus ride to Colonia, a small colonial town.  On the ride, I saw one of the most vibrant, gorgeous sunsets of my whole life.  I really wanted to give the person next to me a massive hug, but, give our nascent relationship, I withheld the temptations.  Instead, I simply allowed my mind to be blown by the colors and the knowledge that I was lucky enough to be alive, then, on the other side of the world from my home.

Some of you might want to see who I've been hanging out with.
Well, here you go.

We arrived in Colonia late, but that did not stop us from walking around a bit to find a glass of fine Uruguayan wine (in this sentence, the word "fine" means "cheap").  I really liked the city for it's structural appearance. It had retained a bunch of it's old architecture from centuries ago (hence the name).  The city had continuously been captured and recaptured between Portugal and Spain, so there were mixes of the two countries in the architecture, as well as hints from elsewhere in Europe.

That's one of the things I love about the western hemisphere: such a mix of cultures.  (Although I'm not so ignorant as to forget that the pre European cultures have largely been wiped out in many places--a consequence of their decimation by conquistadors and other Europeans/Americans.  That is a culture that seems to be relatively absent from both Colonia and Buenos Aires in comparison to Mexico).  I am fascinated with the study of how people from different places meet and coexist, but I am often filled with sorrow to learn of the death and destruction which accompanies such interaction.  Xenophobia and ignorance must be some of the worst psychological problems we humans have faced since the dawn of time.

On Monday, it rained.  I couldn't have imagined better weather for a walk around the town.  It looked like how I pictured The Old Man and the Sea only cooler.  I envisioned myself moving to a place like that one day--some quiet ocean town in South America.  Dreams can be so real, but reality can be so harsh!  Since I probably won't be back for a while, I took some pictures.  Of course, they don't do it justice.

My friend Chelsea standing at the end of a dock.

My tired mind mixed with the beauty of the place, and brought me to a rare mental state--silently appreciative of my surroundings.  I didn't feel like talking much for the rest of the day, and I probably came off as unhappy or annoyed.  In truth, I just fell into my thoughts, and had one of the best days I've had in a long time. I listened to some music, had a debate about love, came home and went to sleep.  That was the weekend; enjoy the rest of my pictures:

Me from the end of the dock, looking back on the town.

Being a colonial town, they had a wall which still stood from
the old days

       

Lighthouse.

I wanna walk up the side of the mountain
I wanna walk down the other side of the mountain
I want to swim in the river and lie in the sun
I want to try to be nice to everyone -Grandaddy (Nature Anthem) 

Fin de Semana

Bienvenidos amigo.  Mira:

The first week of school left me gasping for a bit of rest.  I expected to come home, have an early night after meeting up with some friends, and then have enough energy to jump into the weekend.  I got something better.

Somehow the afternoons fly by after school.  I don't know where the time goes, but this past Friday was no exception.  Somehow it was dark, and I was on the corner of Santa Fe and Borges waiting for some amigos so that we could head to Palermo Soho, the place to be in my neighborhood.

I ordered a Quilmes Bock, but I got a Quilmes Stout--a liter, which I didn't intend.  It served as a second dinner.  You can see me there enjoying my opaque libation with a manly grin. This relaxed environment is my kind of night--hanging out and talking--but when in Rome, you do as the Romans.  Likewise, in Buenos Aires, you stay up all night.

The night life here is absolutely absurd.  We left the bar around 2AM, at which time I reminded everyone repeatedly that I would be going home to rest for the big weekend ahead. My voice deceived me, because within the hour I was dancing at a place called Las Brujas to "We No Speak Americano".  As in most dancing situations, I just went for it--and I'm not sure whether my "Drink 'til you Dance" moves were appreciated by my fellow classmates, but I had a good time.  I came home at around 5:30AM, and even then the bars were packed as if it was 9PM.

It was a good experience, and yes, to all of you out there, I was very responsible.  Still, I probably won't do this again for a while so that I can hold on to some sleep and keep my sanity.

I slept late the next day, but woke up feeling wonderful.  I got breakfast at a cafe with a few friends, and we walked together to the bus which brought us to the rugby match.  Unfortunately, I wasn't able to get a good picture of the game itself, but I took one of the stands.  I had a great time, and I was glad I knew a bit about the sport, having played before, so that I could explain a few things to the people who I sat next to.

*              *                 *                  *              *

I awoke at 5:30 AM the next morning to catch the boat ride to Montevideo.  Over the next two days--Sunday and Monday, I would wander the streets of a country I literally never think about: Uruguay.  I'll give you more on that tomorrow.  Right now, I have homework to do, and I don't want to overwhelm you.

 Until then, I want to recommend this movie.  I recently watched it upon the recommendation of a certain Mr. Haubenreich, a guy who always seems to know what's good.  If you don't watch the movie, at least check out the trailer.  I really enjoyed it.

This is how I felt before and after I tried a blood sausage.

(more to come later tonight/tomorrow)

From a Cafe on Sante Fe

First and foremost, this is my flickr: http://www.flickr.com/photos/63494086@N03/
Does that work for all of you?  I've never used flickr before...

Que pasa hermanos? I'm writing this from a cafe called Havana on the corner of Thames and Santa Fe.  The mocha lattes are delish, if you ever want to come give it a try.  The atmosphere is relaxed, although it seems to be a bit high end.  I'll label it the Argentinian Starbucks.

Anyway, I've gone to two full days of school now.  Unfortunately, my school is almost an hour's commute from my house in Palermo, which makes for a long day of travel.  Let me tell you, I broke a cold sweat yesterday morning as I wandered aimlessly for a solid 45 minutes in search of the correct bus stop which would take me across town to class.  As you all know, I tend to be pretty chill, but I also tend to know where I'm going.  When these two personality quirks converge, the FermiLab in my brain pops out a new particle.  Fortunately, no black hole formed today, and my external chillness didn't waver.  My ability to find my way prevailed.

Although the bus system here is daunting at first, boasting at least a hundred routes, transportation is generally easy to figure out.  The subway is simple, and the colectivos (buses) come every 5-10 minutes.  After just two days of school, I already feel pretty comfortable getting there and back.

Of course, I have a few qualms about my new life here.  First, I live with a pretty old lady.  She has difficulty moving around (back issues, weight issues), and she sleeps a lot, which worries me a bit, to be honest.  I hope she's in better health than I suspect.  It's a two bedroom apartment, and we share a bathroom, which means I get to shower with an old lady's underwear hanging in front of my face.  I guess she dries her undergarments in the bathroom...surprise!

Another issue: people don't do a very good job cleaning up after their dogs here.  I'm all for owning a dog (shout out to Mable!  And I guess Betty too...), but you gotta clean up after it, especially if it's doing it's business on the concrete sidewalk.  Thus far I've been fortunate enough to evade any such land mines, but I've seen a lot of smushed fecal matter decorating the sidewalk.  I won't be so big headed as to declare that I will go another 5-6 weeks without smelly sneakers, but I do take pride in my innate skills at this game of urban dodgeball.

I'm pretty hyped on learning Spanish and reading Lit (whether it be English or Spanish) right now.  I'm trying not to fall into the vortex of indecision which I constantly orbit, but man, it's hard to justify the monotony of economics when humanities linger with such welcoming arms.  I can't help but laugh at myself for being so unsure of my own interests.  I don't plan to think too much about my academics/career right now though, and instead I'll focus on the beauty of my time here.

The school is very political.  I'll take more pictures later this week.  This was
outside the school.  Not tied to Wisconsin protests...

The Subway stop is super nice.  My picture isn't very good...

Host mom gave me a really old, decrepit nylon guitar.  Better than nothing though!

This weekend I'm going to a Rugby game, which will bring back some good memories from high school.  Although I would probably not play again after my concussion, it's certainly a fun game to watch--lots of action and physicality.  On Sunday (and Monday) I'll be in Uruguay, which I'm pretty excited about.  I'll be sure to take lots of pictures of both excursions.  Hasta luego!

It is our choices that show us who we really are, far more than our abilities.

J.K. Rowling (Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets)