Monday, July 7, 2008

Sunday, 6 July 2008

At UB, Profesora Julia told us to go to the Buenos Aires site to look for activities to do. When I visited the Internet cafe, I went to said site and saw a list of things, including tango. Sore about missing the show last Friday night, I went for the tango tab. A dialog box popped up saying this was an adult site and hence blocked. Now I realize that the tango practically oozes sexuality, but the site was a .gov, ¡por amor de Dios!

I then went looking for a nice cafe to have chocolate con churros. The first time I heard about this treat was Spanish 101. Our professor was of Cuban descent and had a sense of humor that´s weirder than mine. Would that my other professors were like that.

Our first project was to partner up and do a presentation on something dealing with the Spanish-speaking world. I´ve always been irritated by American laws. It wasn´t seven months ago that I could legally order Irish coffee for dessert. And it doesn´t matter how old I get, I´ll never be able to go to Cuba just for the hell of it, not short of renouncing my American citizenship. And don´t anyone dare tell me that if I don´t like it, I don´t have to stay in the United States. Why should I leave my country just because I disagree with its policies? I want to see progress in the United States because I love the United States. Patriotism is not blind acceptance of every policy.

Anyway, as Cuba was forbidden fruit, I got very interested in that country, although after learning about tourism apartheid, maybe not so much anymore. I asked the girl who looked like she´d get along best with me if she was up for doing Cuba, and so we looked for pictures of truly Cuban things to put in our powerpoint. I found a picture of a very Cuban dessert - chocolate con churros. Churros would be like sticks of those things you find in chichi bakeries, I believe they´re called palmiers. You dip those in the hot cocoa, or I did anyway, in the Cafe Virrey. Virrey is Spanish for viceroy, FYI. It was fantastic.

I had a few hours until Julieta came home, so I decided to get a pedicure for 34 pesos, or about 12 USD. I can think of any number of things - getting a tattoo, a full facial waxing, threading even - that are less painful than what I endured then. The lady dug and dug into my cuticles, and my Spanish wasn´t good enough for me to shriek, ¨What in God´s name are you doing to my toenails, woman?!¨ I was doused in sweat until we got to the nail color part (crimson, to hide the blood). I then tipped her 2 pesos. Why am I such a masochist?

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