What is your story?

A year later...

A year ago today I might have been strolling through the Andes or drinking mate in the sunshine, or maybe I was just trying to figure out how I was going to survive in Argentina at all. But here I am, a year later - wiser, more traveled, and much more addicted to caffeine. My world has grown; I have grown. 

A lot changes in a year...

I have changed and I see it in everything I do. My self-awareness grew exponentially and I am able to put reason and explanation to my actions. I refuse to let people treat me poorly, because god knows I have had enough of that. I prefer a few close friends to a plethora of acquaintances. Similarly, I spend time alone and I enjoy my time alone. I listen much better than I used to and I make a conscious effort to be an active listener. I do not use technology while eating. My clothes are more comfortable than chic. I am more comfortable being the person I truly am.

So what about the world?

Define the world  - my world, your world, or the planet we live on.

Coming home is odd; everyone else is also a year older, has another years worth of experiences and stories, and perhaps even their own caffeine addiction. It is so easy to forget that while you are plowing forward through time and space, everyone else is too - their lives didn't stop when you left them and neither did the worlds. People I considered my closest friends are now strangers wearing the same University of Rome sweatshirt, my house is filled with objects I have never seen and the entirety of the political climate and social norms has been flipped on its head. 

Feeling lost is not unknown to me.

With everything that has changed, myself included, I am in the process of readjusting. A month and a half ago, I could have told you exactly who I was down to the minute details. Today things are a little fuzzy but they are getting clearer. I know where I want to go and can guess at which paths will take me there. Maybe in a year I will revisit this blogpost and have guessed wrong about who I hope to become and what I want to accomplish but maybe, just maybe, I will get it right.

Besitos.

Mi Querida Mendoza

Ever since I can remember I have hated endings. I constantly wish that movies would go on for one more scene or that an author would have added just another chapter. When something is good, I struggle to let it go - I want to hold onto things forever. Where is the good in goodbye?

Apply what I just said to leaving a place that I consider my home.

Mi querida Mendoza, como te voy a extrañar.

Eleven months and three days later: I am no longer Millie who lived in Denmark and drives a red car. While both of those things are still true, I am so much more than that person. My name is Amelia, pronounced a variety of ways and frequently shortened to Ame. I speak a funny kind of Spanish, boludo. I wear more colors than just black and am decorated with odd jewelry. I am over exaggerative and unapologetically dramatic. I eat meat. I spend more time outdoors than indoors. I consider myself more argentine than estadounidense.

You are not always the person you once were…

There are so many things I am going to miss from my time in la tierra del sol y del buen vino. For starters, all of the people who impacted my life here and made me feel at home in a place once so unfamiliar. I cannot begin to thank these people for all they have done for me; the memories, the laughs, los boludezes, las aventuras, cada puta cosa.

Como les voy a extrañar - nunca les olvidaré.

I am going to miss the way the mountains turn blue, mate – not just the tea but the culture, the urban watering holes of Argentina: plazas, the willingness to help, the accessibility of cities, la siesta mendocina, the person I have grown to be here.

Perhaps the hardest part about leaving Argentina, in comparison with leaving the US, is that I don’t know when I will return. There is so much uncertainty in goodbye.

I was not ready, I am not ready, I will never be ready to leave Mendoza.

Current Location: 35,000 feet over the la pampa argentina.

Looking back at my year, I have accomplished so much. I reached all the goals I set for myself, even if they took time. My understanding of myself, the world, and myself in the world has grown exponentially. I have hit incredible highs and sunk down into incredible lows.

Vivía.

Mi querida Mendoza, como te voy a extrañar.

Hasta la próxima. Besitos.

Alta Montaña y Cerveza

Its funny how we only value time when we realize ours is not infinite.

Another few weeks have passed and now the countdown has begun; tomorrow marks my final ten days in Argentina. What can I say? I am terrified. I am excited. I am stressed. I am living al pedo. I don't want to go home. I want to see my family.

I am a walking contradiction... siempre la misma con vos Amelia.

After my twin left, I made it my objective to live/enjoy/experience/experiment as much as I could this month. So what have I been up to recently? Well, everything. I attended an Argentine cooking class for the second time, danced Cotton-Eyed Joe at yet another cultural fair, played frisbee como siempre, transformed myself into a chamuyera (my apologies to the people affected by this), and just had an overall good time.

A couple of weekends ago, I organized a trip to Cascada de El Salto. We were three Americans, a French guy, and an Argentine. The trek is a pretty easy one until you reach the last kilometer where it starts to go uphill fast. Because of snow and frozen toes, we didn't make it to the top, but that doesn't me we didn't try. When we stopped for lunch, I threw myself into the snow and giddily made snow angels for the first time in a very long time. Coming off of the mountain, we stopped for beers while before taking the bus back to Mendoza.

Perhaps the highlight from the last few weeks was my solo adventure to the largest mountain outside of the Himalayas. The day I decided to go, el famoso Zonda estaba en altura which basically means the weather was bad and I probably shouldn't have been in la Alta Montana. Anyways, after a three hour long bus ride, I made it to Parque Provincial Aconcagua! The Park Ranger looked at me like I was a little crazy but took my 20 pesos, gave me a map, and said he would see me a la vuelta. I took of through the wind and snow with hopes that I would be able to the peak. The trail wasn't very long and soon enough I am at the lookout for the south face. There are two mountains that open up and give you a lovely view of Aconcagua; what did I see? Some clouds and a few snowflakes - only moderately disappointing. However, the scenery was absolutely incredible and now I have another excuse to come back (but next time to climb to the 6.962 meter summit).

My journey continued to Puente del Inca: an abandoned thermal spa built into the side of the mountain and a point where San Martin stopped on el Paseo de los Andes. You can't go inside so I was only there for a few minutes. I quick looked over my shoulder and saw the bus I was supposed to take pass by... thumbs out, I started hitchhiking the 80 y pico kilometers to Uspallata. A militar picked me up pretty quickly and gave me a lecture on how I shouldn't be doing this alone and that Argentina is a very dangerous place, blah blah blah. After his scolding, we got to talking and he is actually the general for a unit of the Blue Helmets, which is super cool! He dropped me off in the center of town where I enjoyed the scenery of the precordillera y la cordillera frontal with a beer and some empanadas. Three hours back and I would call it a day well spent.

The next day I was picked up for yet another mountain adventure. After months of looking at it from afar, learning about it in class, and getting it tattooed on my arm, I was finally in Cordon del Plata. Mariano, Gustavo, and I took a day trip to Vallecitos, where I climbed up as far as I could without losing them. The scenery was espectacular (see pictures below). We ended the day at a bar watching the sunset over the mountains with craft beer in hand.

I am sensing a pattern with mountains and beer...

To end the weekend, as if I wasn't already on a high, I went to watch a movie on mattresses on the floor of a hostel. The movie ended up being pretty weird but afterwards I spent the night roaming around the city with Marcos (Argentine), Juan Pablo (Columbian), and Isa (Chilean). We went to the top of a cerro that overlooks the city, found Jesus, and then got pizza at three in the morning.

Anyways, last week I passed one class with a ten, today I passed another class with an eight, and tomorrow I take my last exam for this semester. Stuff is wrapping up pretty quickly; the next post will be pretty sad so enjoy this while it lasts.

Besitos.

Amelia Cuadrada

I have this idea that there are certain people I can go months without talking to and years without seeing but put us in the same room and after a five minute recap of our time spent apart it will be like we were never apart. Three people gave me this idea and for the first time I was able to test it.

Let me tell you, beloved reader, I was correct.

My twin (soulmate, best friend, person, cheerleader) landed in Mendoza last Saturday. I got to the airport an hour before she landed, by accident and by choice, but by the time she was coming through baggage claim I was jumping up and down with excitement, literally. We caught up on the taxi ride to my apartment and from then on, it was like we had never been separated.

In my head, the days have blurred together because they felt so normal but dreamlike at the same time. The majority of Amelia's' time here was spent in Mendoza doing things that were completely regular; her first day here we wandered the city, played frisbee, then went out with some friends. Repeat this day x 5 with slight alterations (like cooking American food or doing a radio interview) and you have the general breakdown of our week. We snuck into a professional soccer game, rode bikes (kind of unsuccessfully) to bodegas, went to an asado, the works. What made this week so amazing was her presence; I would have done all of these things regardless of whether she was here but everything we did together was 1000 times better because I got to do them with her. It is incredible how one person can change your entire world.

Quizas the most memorable part of her time here was the three days we spent in Malargue. After a six hour bus ride, we made it to a tiny city in the South of the Mendoza Province. Our first day was basically spent wandering through the streets and finding ways not to be cold, like stealing hot chocolate. We booked a tour and our second day we were taken to la Reserva Provincial de la Payunia. Now, let me remind you how much I love volcanoes. Payunia has the highest density of volcanoes in any given place in the world; 890 to be exact. The landscape in comparable to Mars; volcanic rocks covering the surface, very little vegetation, rolling hills, and lots of volcanoes. Overall, the day was pretty long (12 hours in a bus) but worth it. 

Our last day in Malargue I convinced Amelia to go hitchhiking to Castillos de Pinchiera. Getting out there was no problem; we were picked up pretty quickly and taken right there. We crossed a suspension bridge, hiked up to a cave, then came back down. We were there for about an hour then decided we wanted to head back to the city. Here's the problem: no one was coming back yet. Because of the cold and our impatience, we started walking. 15 kilometers and 2 hours later, a car finally came by in the direction we were going and brought us back to the city... sorry Amelia.

I still can't believe how fast the 10 days she was here for past; I already miss her. 

Luckily, there is only 79 days until I get to see her again and only a few more than that until we move into our apartment. 

I love you and miss you, my dear.

Besitos.

P.S. Where is Molly?

Sos hincha de River? Bueno, Ciao.

I am fascinated with the way that we as humans adapt. Osea, the idea that we can transform into two different people over the course of a month, two months, or a year, never ceases to amaze me.

I spent the last hour reading through the blogposts from my Great South American Adventure and in the two and a half months I have been back in Mendoza, I see an entirely different person. I have lost my egotistical attitude and regained some humility; my transformation into an introvert (which I now realize was a way to avoid explaining myself repeatedly) disappeared within a matter of days and I am yet again the over the top extrovert I was always meant to be. My life has become incredibly calm and I love it.  I often find myself lost in self reflection and analysis.While I have not lost my self love, I am more aware of my faults. Recently I have been making decisions that I do not feel line up with who I am now or then. These decisions are too personal to share on my blog (read: if I haven't told you, I probably don't want to so don't ask) but are very significant to how I am feeling right now; I do not know where the person I was two months ago went but I am looking for parts of her. It is very odd that at twenty years old I know so much but so little about myself.  

Perhaps these words will help you, dear reader, understand what I am trying to convey:

Phoenix

Flames for feathers,

diamonds for eyes.

Setting fire to the world

and burning the ashes.

Resurrection from pain;

resurrection is beauty.

A gleaming paradigm:

killing yourself to live.

Anyways, lets talk about something less confusing and more happy! Shall we?

Since my last blogpost, I have basically just lived my life. I have gone to class, hung out with friends, expressed myself artistically, and just lived. I am at a point in my Argentine life where things are no longer extraordinary and I am fine with that. While things are not overly exciting, I love feeling this way because it signifies that I have created a home here. 

One thing that was really cool (and exciting if you're me) was a protest I attended. The Judicial Branch of the Argentine government was trying to pass a law that would reduce the sentences of the provincial police during the dictatorship in half. This act was an effort to decrease the number of inmates in the already overcrowded prison system. However, during the dictatorship over 30,000 disappeared at the hands of these men - 30,000. By cutting their sentences in half it was a direct attempt to forget the tragedies the government created and move forward with no recognition for the hardships endured. If you do not recognize a tragedy and commit it to memory, you are allowinfg it to happen again. 

Every major city in Argentina broke out in protest and cried for those lost four decades ago. The protest I attended had speakers from all backgrounds. There was two Madres de la Plaza del Mayo, Pablo Salinas (my ex professor and human rights lawyer that I happen to have a huge crush on), and several others. 

No aceptamos que la genocida sea olvidad. 

30,000 DESAPARECIDOS PRESENTE AHORA Y SIEMPRE.

Oh and one last thing: Boca lost in the Super Clasico to River Plate. Can we just take a moment of silence for my beloved team? That last minute goal was a real kicker.

Besitos.

Como Evitar Enamorarse de un Boludo

THE LEAVES ARE CHANGING COLORS.

I repeat: THE LEAVES ARE CHANGING COLORS.

Why is this a big deal? The leaves changing from green, to yellow, to dead on the ground can be seen as an identifier of the passage of time. Hearing the leaves crunch under my feet reminds me that my time here is not limited and that I, in fact, have to leave mi querida Argentina, and that time is going faster than I would like it to. 

Since we last talked, dear reader, I have spent too much time in Potrerillos, a city (village?) in the the middle of the precordillera - the last three weekends to be exact. The first trip , which I briefly mentioned in my last blogpost, was a relaxing day next to the lake with wine, potato chips, and white bread sandwiches. Lo pasasmos re bien; we took too many photos and drank just a little bit too much, we swam, laughed, and got a little bit sunburnt.

The following weekend I tagged along on an exchange student camping trip. We were seven in total, representing Colombia, Chile, and the US. After setting up camp and making lunch, we rented kayaks and took off for the other side of the lake where the park rangers couldn't see us. A few of us intentionally flipped our kayaks so we could swim; one of the Colombian girls decided that we looked we were having fun and she wanted to join. She flipped her kayak, hits the water and yells I don't know how to swim... let me remind you that I am a lifeguard. I swim over to her to help, eventually get her back into her kayak and calm her down. Being the daughter of Poseidon that I am, I continued swimming. A few minutes later, I look back and la maldita columbiana intentionally flipped her kayak again. I swim over, help her back in and calm her down. Repeat this another six or seven times and you'd describe my lake portion of the camping trip. Day two was a lazy morning making oatmeal followed by a easy hike up Cerro Cocodrillo. If you look closely at the pictures from this weekend, you'll see a picture of me flexing with the mountains in the background - what is less obvious is the tattoo of those exact mountains on my biceps... sorry Mom.

My third, and most likely no final trip, to Potrerillos took place yesterday! We met up early to go hiking then have an asado. Unfortunately, due to time restraints, we only made it halfway up the mountain before having to turn back. But the endless amount of choripan from the asado we had and La Pen not winning the French election made up for it! Overall, three great trips but perhaps I should mix up my weekend destinations soon.

What else have I done in the last few weeks? Hmmmm... played frisbee, drank mate, attended a handful of parties, created some artwork, intentionally showed up late for class only to be told there wasn't class (shoutout to you Leah), and learned a boatload about Argentina!

This is your warning: if you have no interest in American politics (American meaning both continents), scroll to the pictures and have a nice day!

I want to take some time to explain Neoliberalism in Argentina.

First, the concept of Neoliberalism; once explained to me as colonization without guns, Neoliberalism is a set of economic reforms designed by the global north to remove countries from crisis. However, it also acts as a way to maintain power and hegemony in the global north. 

In 1976, Argentina entered into a dictatorship which halted any form of industrialization and began the accumulation of large sums of debt. When the dictatorship ended in 1983, the country was left impoverished with very few sustaining industries. To pull themselves out of this rut, Argentina took a loan of 10 billion USD from the IMF and World Bank. In 2003, Argentina repaid this debt in full, however, due to interest, the accumulated sum was now now 125 billion USD - an amount that is unattainable for any country. Today, Argentina continues to be indebted to the global north and the interest is still accruing. 

With the loans taken from the IMF and World Bank, Argentina has to comply with the policies set up by these international organizations, meaning the money given to them can only go to building infrastructure and working on the economy but not to the well being of the people. The current president, Mauricio Macri (whose policies and administrations are comparable to Trump's) is building 20.000 kilometers worth of roads and focusing on urban renovation instead of paying teachers, bus drivers, police officers, or any other agent of the state, a livable wage, or working on the extreme disparities of the education system. This is a direct result of Neoliberalism and an example of the North American hegemony at work.

Anyways, besitos mis amores.